The Last Svea
by Micmarj
Summary: For seventeen years Charles XII has been exiled in Braavos. The once glorious house Svea lost almost everything in Robert's rebellion. Charles' father, Lann Lannister who was Tywin's firstborn son, perished at the Trident. Charles' mother died giving birth to him. The last Svea now returns to Westeros seeking his grandfather's approval and glory for his crumbling house.
1. The Svea Lineage

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HOUSE SVEA

House Svea has its roots in the crownlands. The founder Birger Farring was a minor noble far from the succession line. The conflict called the Blackfyre rebellion broke out. A civil war for the crown, between the legitimized Targaryen bastards and the true blood. Birger managed to mobilize the largest army ever originated from the Crownlands. Carrying the Targaryen banner, he then brought the crucial reinforcement to the battle of the Redgrass. This earned him the nickname "The Blackfyre bane." Birger was rewarded by being named the first Fieldmarshal or more specifically "Warden of the Crownlands." Sworn to protect the crown from further invasions by the exiled Blackfyres or other threats. He created house Svea as his legacy. Svea being an ancient andal word for being sworn. Thus Birger Farring became Birger I Svea.

The Svea sigil is Three golden crowns in front of a blue field. Each crown represented an honor bestowed upon Birger: A castle Birger named Three Crowns, The title of field marshal and a knighthood. Their house words are Decisive loyalty.

 **THE SVEA SUCCESSION**

 **dated by years after Aegon's Landing**

145-195 DENYS FARRING

\- His wife SHIREEN CRESSEY (147-203)

170-200 BIRGER I, the Blackfyre bane, son to Denys

\- His wife BAELA VALERYON (143-200)

187-217 GUSTAV II, the Ruthless, son to Birger

\- His wife DENYSE THORNE (176-236)

201-218 ERIK III, the Tilt, son of Gustav

202-231 JOHAN IV, son of Gustav

\- His wife LEYLA ROSBY (199-267)

218-232 SIGISMUND V, the Reckless, son of Johan

203-234 CHARLES VI, the Genius, son of Gustav

\- His wife JANIE LANNISTER (189-237)

217-255 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS VII, the Lion, son of Charles

\- His wife AELORA TARGARYEN (203-255)

231-? CHRISTINA VIII, the Lost, daughter of Gustavus

\- Her husband GARTH TYRELL (231 AC)

245-277 CHARLES IX, son of Christina

\- His Wife BRANDA STARK (236-295)

264-281 CHARLES X, son of Charles

\- His wife ASHARA DAYNE (264-283)

263-282 VICTORIA XI, daughter of Charles

\- Her husband LANN LANNISTER (262-283), son of Tywin

282 AC CHARLES XII, son of Victoria


	2. Chapter 1

It was a marvelous sight to see the Westeros vessel harmoniously swaying by the port. Of course, this was no rare sight. Braavos was one of the known world's most significant trading cities, and to see foreign ships docking was ordinary.

Charles had always longingly stared when these particular ships arrived. Hoping feverishly that a messenger would emerge with a royal decree stating that his exile had ended prematurely. But even then he knew that such hopes were futile.

After all, the Svea fought against the usurper in his rebellion. From what his great-grandfather Garth had told him the Carolean Army had been the biggest thorn in Robert's side.

Charles' blue-green eyes darkened.

"I should never have prayed for that usurper's mercy!"

He had betrayed his father's memory every time he made that divine plea.

But his young self could not help it. The desire to return to his roots had been too great. He had justified his prayers by arguing that the Baratheon King could not be blamed for emerging victorious in the mortal duel against his father. Such was the nature of war after all.

It was a very logical argument. But it did not matter. Charles had not forgiven the Stag, merely forgiven himself for his weakness.

He had no love for this new king. Robert Baratheon had exiled him solely because of his last name. But then again, he understood why.

House Svea had become infamous for its Targaryen support. It was due to the dragons that their house had thrived. Although the same could be argued about the reversal.

Charles' eyes moved from the ship to the majestic blue uniform that he wore. It was graced with golden buttons and an amber belt, holding his family sword. His heritage made him proud. But Charles knew that his family had backed the wrong steed in the mad king. His Grandmother Branda had always said:

"Robert's rebellion was just, my dear, it is such a shame that your mother was caught on the wrong side of it."

But Branda was a Stark, so her opinion was obviously biased, Charles thought.

He sighed and looked out at the horizon, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the surrounding cliffs. There may not have been a ship carrying news of his shortened exile, but he sorrowfully remembered when a Westeros ship came with the message that his grandmother had passed away in Winterfell. He had been thirteen at the time. Branda had raised him, and she had perished in Westeros just like the rest of his family.

He lowered his eyebrows in consideration. Well, there was one exception. His great-grandmother Christina VIII. Who, had not been seen or heard of since she left her title and husband, Garth. Sailing for Ashai.

She was the family member he was least proud of since she had strayed from their family motto "Decisive Loyalty." Her faith wavering in the Targaryens may have been justified considering she had witnessed the tragedy at Summerhall. Christina still had abandoned her family for her religious pursuits.

The first year after Branda's passing he felt that she had betrayed him similarly as Christina had Garth. But such thoughts had always been half-hearted.

Charles may have been forbidden to walk on Westerosi soil, but Branda was not. She had always visited her family in the north every three years or so. Then returned with presents and the latest news of the realm. Although she usually was gone for some four months, Charles had not minded. He always cherished the gossip and tokens from Westeros. It always made him feel closer to home.

But it was ironic that the very same family member who had been betrayed by the Christina VIII had replaced Branda to foster him. Who, in some sense had betrayed him for her other family.

But Garth was a Tyrell, not a Svea, just as Branda was a Stark. Now he, Charles XII was the last Svea.

He had gained his title when his mother died giving birth to him. He had been the youngest Svea ever to receive the title. Supposedly, the mad King had only raised him to that position so his father could lead the Carolean army in Charles' name.

This was probably true. But Charles viewed the title as his birthright.

He drew the Valyrian steel sword from its scabbard. Letting it bathe in the sunlight as he studied it. The design was unique. It was thin and the golden hilt had an elegant form more commonly found on a cutlass or saber.

This sword had served every field marshal before him since Johan IV's watch. He was not going to be parted with it.

"You are a green boy Charles. You have no experiences of battle, yet you hunger for it." He could hear Myron's kind voice lecturing.

But he was prepared for combat. He had received a martial education worthy of a Carolean soldier. Being taught by an expert of combat from each culture. Spanning from Dothraki to Westerosi. Although, the water dancing of the Bravosi was the fittest combat style when using his family sword.

Myron who was a former chief administrator of the Iron Bank had handled his academic education. He was Charles' mentor and closest friend.

How he wished Myron would join him on his journey home. But Myron had insisted that Charles needed to find his place in Westeros without his guidance.

But Charles knew that it was an excuse to cover up the former administrator's simple lifestyle. He shook his head. Myron had always been more comfortable to read about the world's wonders instead of visiting them. He would probably die of homesickness if he joined Charles.

He closed his eyes feeling the wind blow through his untamed blonde hair. Charles knew that feeling only too well. He had suffered from that undying longing to return to his rightful place ever since his seventh name day. For ten years that sense of being misplaced had only grown.

But now. Charles smirked and shot his eyes wide opened. His exile had officially ended by his seventeenth name day.

"I am going home!"

It had taken seventeen years. But his dream would finally become a reality.

He shifted his attention back to the Westeros ship which floated invitingly on the swirling sea. The red banner was proudly flowing in the wind. The foreign yet recurring golden Lion was sown on it.

The Lannister sigil was majestic Charles had to admit. Almost, outshining his own sigil. The Svea blue spoke of valor and reliability. While the Lannister crimson, boasted of power and prestige.

Seeing the Lannister banner had always brought him a mix of pride and bitterness. His whole life he had been surrounded by Lannister gold. Funding his education and enabling that his exile had been endured with some extent of luxury and comfort. The Lannisters were the closest family he had left. And yet, Charles thought bitterly. No one had ever come to visit him.

It almost looked like the lion was mocking him as the banner continued to sway.

Charles sighed and averted his focus.

Not even a single word had he heard from his all-providing grandfather Tywin Lannister. It was as if he only existed on paper. Charles had never known his father, Lann Lannister. So he had no clue what Lann's relationship had been with Tywin. All he knew was what others had told him.

From what he could understand from Garth's stories Lann had spent practically his whole life in Highgarden. Being fostered there and serving as a royal ambassador in the Reach after coming of age. Which to Charles seemed bizarre. Lann being heir to Casterly rock should have spent his time in the Westerlands. But Myron had informed him that Joanna had given birth to Lann before her marriage to Tywin, making the question of succession complicated.

But Charles refused to acknowledge his father as a bastard. Such a reality must have been nullified with the legal marriage of Lann's parents.

But maybe the prospect of his father being a bastard had driven Tywin to isolate Lann from the Westerlands. Marrying him of matrilineally to his mother Victoria XI Svea, to further Lann's distance from the succession line. According to Grath, Tywin had not even been present at the wedding ceremony. Having King Aerys accept the marriage in his stead.

A vivid memory appeared. He had stayed up all night reading about the accomplishes of Tywin Lannister. His grandmother had been furious.

"Tywin Lannister is a cruel man little Charles. He massacred thousands of innocent in the sack of king's landing. If he had been more keen on your wellbeing, he could have negotiated that you lived with your true family in the north. Not on this rock! He may fund our stay here, but you have no reason to look up to that man."

But how could she have blamed him? He had been a confused child. He had just received a letter from his uncle, Tyrion. It was a congratulation on his twelfth name day. He had been livid. It had been the first contact he received from his close family. Branda had never up to that point spoken any details of his father's family. Only told him names. But with that letter, Charles had gained solid proof that the ever-present specter of the Lannisters actually existed.

After Branda's passing, Garth had told him all about his family. So his curiosity grew into anxiety. The everlasting questions of "why" haunted his teen years. Why had he been abandoned? Why had no one visited? Why had his grandfather not sent a single letter? Why did Tywin even fund him if he did not care?

But as the years went by, the unfathomable desire to prove himself worthy of his grandfather's love, outgrew his anxiety. Only fueling his desire to reach his 17th name day.

He would prove his house words right. His loyalty would be the decisive contributor to the Lannisters.

With that thought, Charles steered his boots towards the vessel. Towards home.


	3. Chapter 2

With firm steps, Charles made his way towards the Lannister ship. Two men could be spotted standing guard at the ship's entrance. Their recognizable crimson and gold armor shining in the sun. The closer he got the heavier his steps became. A glorious melody of the wooden planks creaking under his weight. He finally reached the Lannister guards. With a firm grip on his sword and a dashing smile, Charles made a halt before the two men.

If they knew who he was, they certainly did not show it. The guards stood unfazed. Charles could hardly tell that they had even noticed his presence. He spied their visor trying to establish eye-contact.

The Lannister helmets had a very peculiar design. It almost looked like a Kraken, with the large plate shooting out as a fin and the edges under the visor pointing outwardly like tentacles. It was amusingly out of place. He wondered if it even was that practical in battle. Almost the whole face was exposed to thrusts, and yet the visor only covered the eyes, which merely crippled their vision. Utterly useless Charles thought.

After lightly clearing his throat he spoke with his most charming grin.

"Greetings, I am Charles XII of house Svea. Surely you were expecting me."

He loved the excuse to use his full title. The feeling of power and superiority welling up inside him.

The two guards tilted their helmet in his direction. One of them uttered plainly "We were"

The other Lannister soldier turned his back to the "Twelfth Fieldmarshal" and shouted towards the ship. "Captain!"

Their unenthusiastic response to his introduction shattered Charles' illusion of superiority. To them, he was probably nothing more than an exiled lordling.

A few seconds later the boarding ramp rang with graceful footsteps. A man emerged between the guards. He carried himself elegantly with his sleeve clad arms proudly placed on his back. He seemed to be past his prime by the look of his pointy mustache which had a mix of grey and black. But an aura of accomplishment and confidence turned his age to an advantage. His crimson coat was of silk and yet it seemed worn and weathered as if it had been used for years. It would have given the man an unkempt look if not for the white undershirt which was decorated with a green scarf shaped like a flower.

"Ah, Charles!" The gentleman called out as he reached the end of the ramp.

The essence of lavender and other delightful smells emanated from him. Which combined with the warm greeting made Charles feel at ease.

He stood a bit shorter than the young Svea, but a black navy hat compensated the height difference. Sown on the exquisite headgear was an emblem of a white double-tressure on a green field.

The stranger smiled kindly and extended a gloved hand to Charles. Which the junior lord graciously took.

With a firm handshake, the elder man spoke: "I am Garth Greenfield, Captain of this vessel."

The stranger's name caught his attention since it was the same as his great grandfather's. Must be a usual name in Westeros Charles thought.

Branda had taught Charles at an early age the importance of a steady handshake. So he locked eyes with Garth. Aquamarine meeting copper brown, and asserted his grip while stating

"Well met."

A sly smile crept upon the captain's face as their hands withdrew.

"Well, we should waste no time lingering here. Come aboard, my lord."

Garth turned on his heels and gestured with his green gloves towards the ship. Excitedly Charles stepped onto the boarding ramp and started advancing to the deck. After him came Garth who bellowed:

"Prepare to cast off!"

There was a stir of crewmen who started working with the dock lines to free the vessel from the harbor.

Charles gazed in awe upon the enormous red sails. A small chuckle came from behind his shoulder.

"Impressive isn't she."

The young field marshal could only concur with that assessment.

From the golden decorative features to the bulky masts it radiated power.

"Starlet and I have traveled the seas for almost ten years now. Only my trusted coat surpasses her in companionship." Garth smiled and caressed the golden railing. Which at a second glance looked aged.

"We participated in the Greyjoy rebellion. She was but a young maid then. Freshly constructed."

The captain's voice turned distant as he stroked his pointy mustache.

"It truly was a marvel that she survived the raid..."

Charles did not know how to add to the captain's story. So he simply nodded and studied the Lion statue that stood hunched on the prow.

After a very brief silence, Garth directed Charles to a small staircase leading up to the steering platform. Together they marched up the stairs.

"How was your voyage here captain?" Charles asked, breaking the silence.

"Excellent. We arrived two days ahead of schedule."

As the two men came to a stop in front of the steering wheel, Garth continued.

"The wind was good to us, and there were no unfortunate obstacles on the way."

Garth did seem seasoned on the seas, but Charles did wonder if this was more than a first visit.

"Have you been to Braavos many times Captain?"

Garth pulled his facial hair thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it would seem this is my fourth visit. The other three occasions I have been delivering supplies and equipment for your household."

Charles' assumption proved valid. He had spotted Starlet once in his youth when he had calculated the probable due date for their shipments. Charles had hoped to see one of his relatives. A folly belief he knew now. Nevertheless, he had sneaked out of their apartments and waited at the docks from midday to afternoon. Branda found him though. But as he was dragged back Charles saw a ship with a golden lion guarding its prow, slowly gliding towards the harbor. Naturally, he had tried again, but he never had any success.

Appreciation for the newly acquainted captain filled Charles. That he had been a recurring link to his family comforted him.

"I thank you Ser for all your fine deliveries. It has been invaluable."

Garth Greenfield had brought Westeros to him, and for that, he was grateful.

Garth bowed his head with a genuine smile.

Now the captain was bringing him to Westeros. That thought made him almost ecstatic.

"Gods" Charles whispered under his breath. "I'm finally going home."

There was a shout from below deck. "All is ready Captain!"

Garth responded with a command to set sail for the Rock. Starlet then started to move.

The journey was relatively long. It was estimated that they would arrive in a fortnight. But according to Garth, this was an incredibly quick voyage. They had been graced with excellent weather. Charles did not even feel seasick. Which he acknowledged as lucky since this after all was his first time at sea.

Starlet was a warship from the fleet. She had laid anchored at Lannisport when Tywin specifically chose her and a few men for the task of delivering Charles. The young lord had asked the captain what their chances against a Pirate attack were. Garth had then answered that it was unusual that Pirates attacked Lannister ships. Especially a warship flying the Lannister Banner. "Especially Starlet" he had stated with pride. But if they were attacked they would have sufficient numbers to hold them off Garth assured him.

The ship crew consisted of twenty soldiers and another twenty sailors. Charles spent most of his time along the crewmates. Captain Garth was polite but not very talkative and a very focused and the dedicated captain. So Charles mostly met him at dinner.

The soldiers Charles' found to be a very cheerful company. They told epic stories of Westeros and the Westerlands which intrigued the young lord. Their tales were often more energetic than his great-grandfather Garth's.

He inquired about the current state of the realm and was told that the peace had been held and that the realm faired well. The discussion then focused on their current monarch. His father's murderer. One thing he picked out of was that King relished hunting. Charles had never hunted himself. He had never been allowed to venture outside the gates of Braavos.

Always wanting to know more about his lineage Charles inquired the men of what they knew about the Carolean army's fate. But they had no other information to share which he already did not know. The grand army created by Charles IX had been crushed at the trident and was no more. There were different stories about what happened to the keep Three Crowns. Some said it was destroyed others thought it was given to another Lord. From what he could tell after hearing all their stories were that the soldiers had only been in the Westerlands.

One of the evenings Charles asked the soldier named Lucien who sat next to him what they thought of Tywin. Lucien who had been cheering lively and shaking his cup, so ale spilled over the table froze at the question. The laughter seized momentarily as Lucien and some others gave a shaky and brief response to the greatness of their liege.

That the Lannister soldiers feared his grandfather did not encourage Charles. But his reputation did match the neglect. To the twelfth field marshal's amusement after a few more drinks Lucien suddenly stood from his stool in a hiccup. Loudly proclaiming:

"To elaborate the subject you brought up earlier m'lord."

He made a pause in his speech, cleaning his mouth with the edge of his jacket. Then he grinned lifting the cup over his head.

"It is true...that our Lord does shit gold!"

Lucien then exploded with laughter. Many of the crewmen and soldiers joined in on the banter. Banging their hands on the table. Others looked less amused, some even scared. Charles, however, found it very entertaining. This myth he wasn't familiar with. It shed a more cheerful light on the cold mystery that was his grandfather. He turned his attention to the far side of the table where Garth Greenfield shook his head with a faint smile.


	4. Chapter 3

The time aboard the ship went by fast. Never had Charles experienced such a pleasant time interacting with others. Although this was the first time, he had socialized with such a big company.

The crew seemed a bit unaccustomed that a Lord was spending so much time with them. But they enjoyed Charles enthusiasm. They showed him different sailing techniques and Charles, in turn, helped the crew with what he could. When they had time to spare, the twelfth field marshal used it to practice his sword fighting. Thankfully the sea was very calm during the rest of the voyage. There were more waves in the night but nothing serious.

Soon enough Starlet was gliding into the harbor of Lannisport.

Charles stood on the deck clutching his sword in both excitement and nervousness. When the ship came to a halt, the young lord could only watch as the crewmen hauled the boarding ramp upon the gantry and secured Starlet with multiple dock lines. Garth then walked up beside him. The white feathers upon his hat shifting in the breeze.

"You can stay here on the ship while I send word of your arrival."

Charles spied the dock for a welcoming party. But there was none. But he understood that even if the soldiers knew that he was coming, they could hardly have know when. Garth bowed before walking down the ramp. The captain returned shortly after and reported that an escort was on the way.

When Charles had asked if they could take a look around while they waited Garth responded "I am afraid I can't allow you to walk freely around the port. My orders are to keep you on the ship."

He said it with a sad smile as Charles disappointment could be read on his features.

The captain then added while putting a hand on Charles' shoulder "Even if I would not mind."

Charles met Garth's kind gaze and then composed himself.

"Then we will stay here. I would not want to disobey my grandfather before I even met him."

So the young lord spent several hours on the deck studying the distant city. Listening, to the faint buzzing of voices. The smell of life and activity was filling him. Though a feeling of dread started to grow inside him. Soon he would meet "the" Tywin Lannister. His grandfather who he had never met. What would Tywin say? What should he say? Would his grandfather embrace him with open arms welcoming him home? That fantasy filled his heart with warmth. It always had. Perhaps Tywin would even come to the dock to escort him to Casterly rock. Charles was interrupted in his pondering as the sound of hooves thundered on the pier.

Charles, who had been leaning on the gold railing jolted upwards. The scabbard containing his family sword loudly hitting the wood.

With a big lump in his chest, both he and Garth made their way down the boarding ramp. Six mounted Lannister soldiers then halted before Starlet. A young man with long blonde hair rode past the soldiers on a beautiful white horse. Behind the stranger was an additional white stallion without a rider. As Charles reached the end of the ramp, the blonde man dismounted. There was no sign of Tywin Lannister Charles notified with a mixture of relief and disappointment.

"Is it young Charles?"

The words made the twelfth field marshal turn his head towards the man who had just dismounted.

"It is." Charles added with a smile before extending his hand. "Greetings."

The stranger then took it with his own. "My name is Ser Choren Brax. I am a sworn sword to your grandfather Lord Tywin."

"It is a pleasure meeting you ser." He recognized the Brax name, but he could not localize it.

Choren turned to Garth saying "Tywin sends his regards, thanking you for bringing Charles home. We will send a few horses to take you to The Rock later tonight. But first, you can settle your affairs here."

The realization that Garth would not accompany him the remainder of the way saddened the young Svea.

"Garth, thank you for the trip. Truly" He pressed his right hand to his chest to emphasize how gracious he was.

"Well I hope we see each other soon enough" The Captain answered with a wink. He met the young Svea's beaming smile before turning his heel and slowly walking back to Starlet.

Choren and Charles studied the departure for a moment before the knight gestured to the white horses.

"Well have you ever mounted a horse before?"

This made Charles chuckle. "I am not that green." he said in a jest arrogant voice.

"Well jump on then, and if you fall off." Choren paused as he hauled himself onto the horse. "I will have to come back for you." he finished with an amusing tone.

Thoroughly entertained by this challenge the young lord mounted the other horse. "I might surprise you. I am more elegant than you think."

They then rode through Lannisport crossing the finer streets where it was less crowded. It started getting late in the afternoon, which made Charles wonder if they would reach The Rock that day. But the marvel of the city made the prospect of staying the night pleasant. The architecture of the houses was stunning. A majority of mansions sported the same red colored roofs. The streets buzzed of life with people filling the streets. As they rode past a market Charles recognizes a few braavosi goods being advertised by a loud merchant.

Since the streets were swarming with people, the traveling speed was incredibly slow. Throughout the whole ride, people had to move aside as they approached. Sometimes their party would come to a full stop to let a carriage pass.

As they close to the outskirts of the city, the number of people decreased. When they finally pass through the gates, their horses could commence a fast Sprint towards Casterly Rock.

As the distance to The Rock minimized, the sheer size of it almost baffled Charles. The Castle was a mountain. It even had a lion shape. Soon they came to a stop before the giant castle.

"Are there enough rooms to fill it?" The young Svea inquired to Choren Brax who was mounted beside him.

"Well, there are some rooms which have been empty for hundreds of years."

That did indeed mean that the Rock had rooms spare. Which begged the question:

"How many people live there now?"

Choren thought for a moment before answering.

"Depends. It can house tens of thousands. But at the moment I would say 6000 or 7000 people."

The knight glanced at Charles and saw the aw in his eyes as he studied the mountain. Choren adjusted his reigns as the horse moved.

"Have you ever seen anything so magnificent?"

No, he certainly had not.

"I have not visited many places. So only the Titan of Braavos. But this..." Charles excitedly motioned at The Rock "Is an actual castle! It is indeed proof of the Lannisters prestige."

"Indeed it is."

A short silence followed the knight's response. As both admired view.

Curious about why the Brax name was so familiar Charles asked:

"So are you from the Westerlands or Lannisport?"

"Actually I'm from the Hornvale. My family are sworn bannermen to the Lannisters. My cousin is the current lord there."

Charles felt ashamed that he had forgotten that house Brax was one of the noble families of the Westerlands. To prove he wasn't ignorant Charles blurted out:

"I have always been curious why your family chose the mythological creature of a Unicorn to be their sigil."

The thin facial features of Choren stiffened in consideration.

"To be quite honest I'm not so well real read in history. But I think my father once spoke about someone seeing a unicorn and being fascinated by it. Therefore wanted to be associated with it."

Choren paused and then muttered, "Or something of the sort."

He did not seem enticed by the subject. "It is lost to history, to be honest."

"Most is" Charles added somberly. "What is left other than Legends?"

This made Choren erupt in small laughter.

"So Charles, how was your journey here?"

"It was great spending time with the crew. I have also been very eager to come home."

The dashing knight caught the undertone of dread in Charles' voice.

"Well, are you nervous?"

Choren's genuine expression compelled the young lord to speak

his mind.

"From what I've heard and what I've read" Charles then added more silently "And have experienced. My Grandfather is a quite practical individual. A very imposing person."

"You'll have to wait a few hours to meet him. There are a lot of steps to climb in Casterly Rock."

Charles took a deep breath. Then met Choren's brown eyes.

"I am ready."

Charles then spurred his horse forward and started riding towards the entrance.

They pass through the large gates entering the mountain. Inside is a long archway. As Charles gaze up at the rocky ceiling, he estimated it would take fifty men sitting on each other's shoulders to touch the uneven surface. The air was surprisingly fresh. He could spot opened hatches that let in soft breezes and streams of daylight. It is was lightest at the entrance, and it got darker as they progressed forward. The lack of sunlight was compensated with multiple candles and torches. To the left of them was a stable where their horses surely would be stored. There was livestock roaming around inside a pen. Even further away Charles heard shouts where men loaded goods on to a large platform. It had thick ropes connected to it that lead higher up in the mountain through an opening.

The retinue of soldiers that had escorted him proceded towards the stables. Charles and Choren instead continued to ride until they reached a column of guards. From out of the mass stepped a Lannister soldier. He wore no helmet and with a stern voice, he cried out.

"Welcome Charles XII"

Charles dismounted with a grin.

"Thank you. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"I am Ser Sterlan Hill, Commander of Lord Tywis household guard."

Charles bowed his head "It's an honor." Then he proceeded to say

"When can I see my grandfather?"

The older knight spun around and motioned towards an opening in the wall where stairs lead further up into the mountain.

"When we climb the steps."

Sterlan gestured to Charles and Choren to follow him.

"This way."

The three men advance towards the massive staircase which had a base, the length of a ship. It took several paces before one could ascend the edge of each following step. The steps themselves were a unison of natural rock and supported stonework. At the very bottom stood three copper horses adorned with white spots saddled. One of which Sterlan mounted.

"Take a horse." He gruffed.

Charles obliged and hopped onto the horse standing closest to him while Choren mounted the middle one. The trio then started trotting upwards. The sound of hooves echoing on the barren rock.

"So how far into the rock does my family live?" Charles asked the older knight after a while of riding.

"Well, they stay at the very top of the steps" Sterlan answered plainly and then increases the speed as they rounded a corner. They reach a fork where there are eight different branching paths. Though only four of the routes had steps that continued upwards. Sterlan and Choren direct their horses with indifference towards a path which had a stunning arch, with carved lions on the pillars.

As the journey continued uphill, the left wall soon disappeared, and the distance to the roof extended significantly. There suddenly was a hundred foot drop where there once had been a wall. The Castle Three Crowns with its surrounding moat could probably have fit inside the giant hole to their left. They had entered an enormous shaft. It was the most unrefined area of the Rock Charles had seen so far. The entire surface being rock and giant stalactites threatening to fall and crush them. Only the torches and steps were proof that this cave had been explored.

"Is Casterly Rock divided into sections? Or are there many castles spread out inside the rock?" Charles asked looking at Sterlan.

He only mumbled in response "Depends on how you define it" and then increased his pace forward. Seemingly uninterested in conversating.

"Well, I can answer that for you."

It was Choren who spoke. He was riding behind the young Svea and now trotted his horse forward, so they were beside each other.

"It is divided into some sections. It is a big mountain so not like castles, but rooms in which you could barricade yourself. If the first part is taken, then you can defend the second."

Charles listened intently to the young knight's description. He then turned and examined the surroundings in a different light.

Choren continued "Well I am very impressed myself with this great structure of mankind. It is a wonder it got built."

"One of the many mysteries of the world. Same as the wall." Charles filled in.

They shared a look of mutual thoughtfulness. Then Choren looked onwards musing.

"I have personally never seen the Wall. But I have heard it's tall. Though, they say that Casterly Rock is even taller."

"Three times taller actually." Was the young Svea's enthusiastic response. He was thoroughly enjoying Choren's company.

"Well, you know your monuments. Or whatever it's called." Said the knight impressed.

Charles smiled "Well I have had time to read." the smile then turned bitter. "It was all I really could do."

He changed the subject. "So how long does it take to travel from the entrance to the top of The Rock?"

"Well, we have these specially trained horses that we are currently using. It increases the traveling speed significantly. You get tired quite quickly climbing the steps on your own." Choren paused with a small laugh.

"Trust me."

Then he resumed "So with our horses, it takes almost 3 hours."

The massiveness of the Rock impressed Charles. A whole war could probably be waged inside the very mountain.

"Are there many different paths in the Rock for evacuation and other purposes?"

Choren nodded "There are. But I have not seen all of them." he paused and then assumed with a matter-of-factly tone "It is a labyrinth in here. Only a few people know the different paths of The Rock. I only use the main path. And I can almost say for certain that no one has seen the entirety of The Rock. It would take a long time to explore, I can assure you."

Charles contemplated this for a moment. He imagined himself voyaging into the mountain, finding every cave. The look of pride in his grandfather's eyes when he could claim that he had seen it all.

"I take that as a challenge" Charles spoke with a grin.

Choren turned towards the junior with an amused expression.

"Well If you want to spend the rest of your life inside this rock. So be it for you."

Charles grin turned sheepish "Maybe I spoke too soon."

What a waste of time to run around with a torch feeling the rock for openings. He had so much else to contribute to his family. Hopefully.

Choren interrupted his pondering "Many parts of The Rock are not used today. Only two years ago a servant found an entire vault of gold."

"Really?" Charles asked excitedly

"Yes, nobody knows how long it had been there, but some lord obviously stored the gold. Maybe two hundred or three hundred years ago.

Charles' eyes lit up dreamily.

Seeing his companion's enthusiasm, Choren added "Of course this doesn't happen often. People usually keep an eye on their gold you know. But it is an interesting story nonetheless."

The young Svea nodded. Then he remembered that The Rock was supposedly the wealthiest place in Westeros.

"Is it true that there is a gold mine inside the rock?"

"At the bottom, we have several gold mines and a few further up. There are others in the Westerlands who has goldmines as well." Choren informed as they exited the shaft and entered a new tunnel.

From what Charles had read the Westerlands were the only kingdom with gold mines. He believed that there was a mine in the Hornvale but decided not to ask. Instead, he inquired

"I heard Castamere had a gold mine. Is it still operational? Or has it been abandoned like the ghosts of our enemy?"

Choren seemed a bit hesitant, then responded "Well the area is being ruled in Tywin's name by house Spicer." the knight then whispered seriously "But the castle has been empty for years. Have you not heard the story?"

Charles, who was a bit annoyed that Choren presumed that he had asked in total ignorance said:

"Well, I have heard the song and read about the uprising and extinction of their house."

He was about to ask again regarding the gold when Choren cut in "No one will ever enter that mine unless they manage to get tons of water out of it."

This shut Charles up.

Choren continued "When The Reynes locked themselves inside their mountain. Lord Tywin could not reach them. So he had his men seal the exits, dig holes into the mountain and flooded it."

There was a pause.

"Every sorry soul inside Castamere died."

Charles was speechless. His face turned pale. He had known about the death of all the house members. But the knowledge that every servant, guard or guest perished, cast a rather grim light upon his grandfather. What could he expect when he met this man?

"As you can understand, the mine is therefore unreachable."

After Chorens statement an ominous silence followed the pair as they continued their journey. After a while, their party arrived at a large platform where food and water were prepared for them.

Ser sterlan Hill turned to Charles and uttered in his blunt voice:

"Now the horses can't take us any further. Here you can drink some water and rest. We continue in 20 minutes."

The Three men dismount and settle behind a table where the refreshment was presented. The horses were then led away by guards to a small stable.

Halfway through their brake, a panting originating from the steps could be heard. A sweating servant carrying Charles luggage then appeared. He waddled away to a bench where he sat down with a sigh.

"Is there an elevator in the rock similar to the one at Castle Black." Charles asked thinking of the struggle it must be to scale the castle continually.

To his surprise, it's Sterlan who answered.

"We have an elevator which can be seen at the entrance. It is used to transport supplies to the top."

Charles remembered the platform with the wires he had seen and figured that must be it.

The younger knight filled in.

"Well, we have a system of several. I mean it is to high up for one to suffice. So we have four different that can transport goods." Choren pauses and looked at Sterlan "It can be used to transport people."

Then he established eye contact with Charles "Which we sometimes do If they are in a hurry. But it takes time and is complicated."

Charles wondered what other features the Rock had to offer and asked "Is there a raven system used to send internal messages? Or do you use actual messengers?"

Again it was the earnest sworn sword who responded.

"It depends. Sometimes we use small pipes inside the mountain to send letters to the bottom. At the top, there is a pipe that goes down half the mountain. It is harder to send messages upwards, but I know they have a few Ravens. So in case, there are visitors a message can be sent to the top."

"Was a raven sent informing of my arrival?"

"Yes, but you were expected. I lived in the lower parts of the rock a few days waiting for your arrival. Otherwise, I live at the peak."

Sterlan put down his water goblet.

"Shall we move on?"

Charles finished the last of his water in one swoop and stood up with the other two.

"I am ready if you are."

From here they travel by foot up the rest of the stairs. They are followed by the servant carrying Charles belongings and a Guard. They walk at a moderately slow pace. Within 15 minutes of walking, they reach the end of the stairs.

Charles let out a massive sigh of relief as he walked from the last stepstone onto the platform. He had finally made it. The surge of euphoria welled inside. There was an opening in front of him, where it originated actual daylight. The gate doors had been opened. On both sides of the exit stood a stiff Lannister guard viewing the new arrivals.

They walk past the guards out into the open. After several hours of dim and moist air, they finally inhale it fresh. A gigantic courtyard met Charles' vision. In the middle, there was a beautiful pool which almost stretched throughout the whole length of the yard. By its sides were multiple buildings of different shapes and sizes. At the very end stood two towers. The tallest at the center. Immense flags carrying the Lannister banner danced in the wind. Surrounding the whole courtyard was a tall wall which in part was natural rock. Chickens were cackling and a distant smell of food emanated from the kitchens.

Choren walked up beside the young Svea who intently stood and studied the surroundings.

"Well my friend, we are at the top."

Charles noticed that Sterlan had already left. He had walked by the right side of the pond. Looking to be heading for the tallest tower. Instead, he stopped at the end building where two guards stood posted.

A cold wind suddenly crept up Charles' body, and he realized that it was notably chilly outside. He knew it was due to the altitude.

"In winter it must be freezing up here." He commented amusedly while gritting his teeth.

"Well, no one lives here in the winter. They move down. But in the summer it is a nice place to stay."

Two elderly men and a bald man who had conversated by the pond was now making their way towards them.

"Here we have another welcoming party."

Choren's declaration made the young Svea's joy start to turn into anxiety. Was this it? One of the senior men wore a grey robe and a long chain necklace. The bald man where armored. The third wore fine crimson clothes. Charles' heart started pounding. Perhaps this was his grandfather.

"Charles welcome. I'm Damion Lannister. Steward of Casterly Rock. We have been waiting for quite some time to have you here."

Confusion flooded the young man's mind for a moment. He wasn't disappointed. This was after all a member of his family. But why had not Tywin come to greet him?

Damion's warm welcome made it feel better though.

"I have as well. Pleasure meeting you." He answered beaming.

Then the armor-clad man stepped forward.

"I am Benedict Broom, Master at arms at the castle."

"And I'm Maester Creylen. It says itself in the title. I'm the Maester."

Charles bowed his head to the three men "Thank you for receiving me. It is a delight." Then he asked,"Do all of you live here at the peak?"

"Most of us. Some stay a few levels down below." It was Maester Creylen who answered. A firm voice for a man of his age.

Damion spoke next "I live a few levels down. It's more flexible for my position; there is a lot to manage."

In the corner of his eye, Charles spotted Sterlan exiting the building by the tower. A dog suddenly came running towards the young Svea. It barked happily and made movements to lick his hand. Charles laughed and scratched it behind the ear.

"Well hello there." he squats to make the petting easier.

"Does he or she have a name?" Charles asks looking up.

Benedict broom eyes the dog pestered.

"To be honest, I don't know the name. I don't care about the dogs. But If you ever have time ask one of the guards."

"Now away with you, dog" The Maester calls lightly waving at the animal.

The dog runs off with a small whimper. Behind his shoulder, Charles heard Sterlan's harsh voice.

"Lord Tywin will see you now. This way"

Charles sighed in anticipation and dread. He could feel the sweat starting to form on his forehead. His hand searched for the safety of the sword handle, gripping it tightly. He then followed Sterlan to the building he had exit previously.

At the entrance, between the two guards stood a kind looking grey haired man. He wore lavish red clothes with the Lannister banner sown in gold on his breast. He smiled at Charles. Which made the young Svea's heart leap in joy. Here Tywin was! And he was glad to see him. With Almost all doubts forgotten Charles elegantly bows before the man.

"This is Ser Kevan Lannister" Sterlan called out formally.

Charles froze in his bow. His face pale.

Kevan's voice was soft. "Charles, I'm the brother of your Grandfather."

It took some time for Charles to recover.

"Oh..of course, of course."

He managed to straighten himself and force a smile "It truly is a joy meeting you Ser."

Kevan bowed his head and then walked away. Sterlan, in turn, gestured at the entrance.

Charles looked at it with uncertainty. Although there was no doubt that Tywin Lannister was in this room, all the tension and insecurity had returned. He felt that his hand had returned to the handle.

This was ridiculous. He had not waited seventeen years to stall behind a door freely. The premature guesses were his fault. Tywin was on the other side, and he needed to make a good first impression.

So Charles with trembling legs entered.

As the door closed behind him, he had to squint his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The rooms primary light source was centralized towards the middle. The dimness was almost a bit unsettling. It looked to be a study. Everything cleaned and tidy. Books were lined up in perfect order and papers neatly stacked. No dust or litter could be spotted. The candles on the opposite walls were arranged to be completely parallel to each other. Back in the room in the very center sat Tywin Lannister behind a desk. His head tilted, and his arm, moving along the surface of the table. He was writing.

Tywin did not even look up when Charles entered. There was not a single sign that he had even noticed the new presence. Instead, he continued writing.

Charles could feel the is cold sweat gliding down his brow. Unlike Kevan, his grandfather had a bitter face. His features entirely focused on his work. Except for the scribbling sound of Tywin's quill, the room was entirely silent.

The young Svea then saw a lone chair exposed in front of the desk and slowly advanced towards it. When he was about to brush his hand on the chair's back, Tywin looked up from his paper. His grandfather made one quick analyzing gaze over Charles.

"Sit" The cold voice of Tywin command.

He then looked back at his paper and resumed the writing. Charles fumbled with his scabbard, trying to remove it from his side. He proceeds in total dismay as the awkward noise filled the room.

When he finally was done Charles took a seat. Tywin then put the quill on the table and sat back in his Chair.

"So you finally made here" He looked Charles straight in the eye.

The young man scrambled with his response "Indeed…..my lord. The Rock is most impressive. I have been looking forward to this day all my life".

"Spare me the courtesy. Seventeen you are?

Summoning more courage Charles responded, "I would not be here otherwise."

"Due to your banishment," Tywin said matter-of-factly.

"Yes." The response came quietly

"Remind me, what crime did you commit to receive a banishment?"

This took the young lord off guard. Charles almost stuttered "Crime?"

Tywin did not relent his gaze nor show any indication to elaborate. So Charles took a small breath to muse.

" ...My family fought for the Targaryens. We lost, and due to Svea's notorious support, I was banished." It felt unfair that he had to explain himself "I believe you were the one to discuss the terms of my banishment with King Robert."

"So you did not commit a crime?"

Tywin sounded inquiring rather than accusing, so Charles shot back with more confidence.

"In a war, one must declare for a side. Can you truly be blamed picking the losing side of the war? Maybe we had committed a crime in supporting the Targaryens after the war. But so did the Tyrells and the Thorns. It is the victor who writes the history after all."

"Spare me your history lessons. The point I'm trying to address is that you have done nothing to deserve your banishment."

Charles felt that the positive words did not correlate with how they had been said.

"Either you can live in your father's legacy and continue to be an outcast of this family." Tywin stood up from his desk and walked around it, addressing Charles.

"Or you can make sure you create a new legacy."

Charles stood up as well. His face inches from Tywin's.

"A legacy for a living family" Charles spoke with resolve. The doubt from his face vanished.

Tywin continued, looking intently at his grandson "The past is the past. The only thing that matters is now."

Charles straightened but did not break eye contact.

"Indeed. There is no good on dwelling in lost opportunities. Only what we can be accomplished matter."

There was a tiny glimmer of satisfaction in Tywin's identical blue-green eyes.

"Clever."

The lord of Casterly rock then turned away from Charles and started walking towards the door.

"Now, you are probably starving. We will discuss more over dinner." Tywin turned to look at his grandson while continuing "But first, you will be shown to your quarters. Where you can change into something proper." he then walked towards the exit.

Charles took one fearful glance at his stunning blue Svea uniform. The idea of being clad in Lannister crimson entering his mind.

"Proper?"

Tywin halted before the doorstep and merely turned his head to respond.

"In other words something that does not stink of sweat."

With that Tywin left Charles who was still standing by the chair. He stood contemplating his meeting when Sterlan marched in.

"Follow me ."

They walk out of Tywin's study back into the courtyard. Then headed past the great tower and the water pool, entering the building opposite to the study. Sterlan then leads Charles to a smaller chamber. It housed a small bed with a table standing by it and a cupboard with wooden drawers. The candles were lit, the bed dressed and prepared.

Before leaving Sterlan just stated, "Your luggage has been carried to your room."

In deep thought, Charles cleaned himself and dressed in a new uniform. He left his sword on the bed before heading out. A guard then escorted him past the pool to the dining hall, which Charles entered with a grin.


	5. Chapter 4

Charles woke up the following day in his comfortable featherbed. He yawned happily and Stretched his limbs across the soft sheets, fully appreciating the luxury. Afterall, he had just spent a month at sea. A trail of light shined through the window, hitting the wall. It almost looked divine as dust floated in the illuminated source.

This was his first morning in Westeros. He laid peacefully on the bed for a while, contemplating this incredible development. Charles recounted his whole trip mentally. The latest night seemed like an almost blur after the discussion with Tywin. He organized his thoughts recalling the events.

Charles sat up and remembered how stale the dinner with Kevan and his grandfather had been. The highlight of the event being Tywin's announcement that Charles was to resume his education with the maester.

Perhaps he could go to the maester's tower directly after breaking his fast, which Charles now knew was the tallest tower in the courtyard. The young Svea felt a jolt of energy and started dressing. He pulled the white undershirt over his hairless chest. Shoved his arms into the sleeves of the yellow tunic and quickly closed it. Then he grabbed his blue coat and yanked it in place. Since it was a chilly walk to the dining hall, Charles decided to tuck in the golden buttons into the holes. His fingers were working quickly against the surface of the decorating golden crowns. Soon enough the boots were on, and he finally wound the black scarf around his neck.

He had opened the door when he suddenly remembered his family sword. Charles turned and grabbed the scabbard which leaned against a corner. With resolve, he attached the amber belt to his waist. He would not make a habit of leaving it behind.

Caressing the golden handle, Charles recalled his encounter with Kevan's sons the night prior. Martyn and Wilhelm had rushed towards him and burst with questions. They had begged him to show them the valyrian steel sword.

"Is that Blackfyre?" Wilhelm had asked in aw upon seeing the blade.

Charles chuckled at the memory and unsheathed the weapon.

He studied the sword, feeling the steel with his finger. Blackfyre was the ancestral sword of the Targaryens. It was stolen by the Targaryen bastards who adopted the sword's name as their last name.

Now Blackfyre was lost. Martyn had commented this to his brother's exclamation.

Charles' had explained to the boys that his sword had been a gift from King Aerys I after Johan IV, had led an effective campaign in the third Blackfyre rebellion. Johan even personally dueled and captured Aegor Rivers during battle. Who he then brought before the king.

Charles balanced the elegant steel on his finger. It was too thin to be Blackfyre and sported the wrong color scheme. The sword's real name reflected its majestic look.

"Vasa" he breathed out. Then after swinging it a few times, he sheathed it at his side.

The sun shined warmly when Charles exit the building. An aura of calmness was set upon the courtyard. The pond glittered, and there was no commotion of voices like in Braavos. The inviting view made the young Svea feel as if he was in a dream.

Charles estimated it to be around eight in the morning. It was still damp from the night and as he had expected it was chilly. His warm breath, visible in the air.

Before entering the dining hall, Charles spotted Damion conversating with two workers in the yard. He walked over and greeted the castellan. After some small talk, he asked Damion:

"How long have you been at the post?

"A few years." The Steward nodded seriously. But then he added more amused.

"To be honest, I don't remember how many. Four or five perhaps. You know after a certain time at the post the years just float together. I'm losing count of time. My ventures outside the rock are very scarce. Perhaps a trip to Lannisport sometimes. But it makes life very monotone, which makes time uncountable."

"Maybe you should be allowed a break." Charles said while tilting his head. He wondered if such life sentence of a position would ever suit him.

"No need, I'm committed to my work. Now If you excuse me."

Damion made his departure towards the stairs, and Charles followed his stomach to the dining hall.

At the entrance stood a servant who called out "Breakfast by lord?"

Charles thanked him before settling at the high table. All seats in the hall were desolate of people.

"Has Lord Tywin already eaten?" He asked when the servant returned with a plate of freshly cooked food.

"He eats in his own chambers m'lord."

Charles looked across the empty hall disheartened.

"Then, who usually do eat here?" His tone was bitter.

"Depends, m'lord. I think more will join you soon."

The servant bowed and went back into the kitchen. Charles picked up a fruit from the tray closest to him and started to eat in his solitude. His positive spirit a bit dwindled since before. Charles was halfway done with his potatoes when an upbeat voice cried out "You woke early I see."

The young Svea looked up from his plate and saw the dashing Brax member taking a seat at one of the lower tables.

"Indeed" Charles responded happily. He was about to ask Choren to join him at the high table when he realized, that probably would be improper.

"I will join you!" He instead said and grabbed his plate.

He finished his meal in the sworn sword's company.

"Perhaps we can walk a few stairs down so you can see more of the castle." Choren suggested before taking a bite of his chicken.

"That sounds most intriguing" The young Svea concurred. Charles then stood up and put a hand on the sword hilt.

"Please lead the way."

Choren looked at his plate then to Charles'.

The knight Chuckled "Already finished?"

Charles returned the laugh as he saw that Choren was only half-through his portion and retook a seat.

After they were done, Choren gave his companion a tour of more dining halls, some food storages and a vault of gold that was guarded by four men. The young knight also showed Kevan's quarters and his own room, which was larger than Charles'.

They then ventured to the elevator platform, which Charles found most intriguing of the sights. The young Svea inquired to the workers about the construction. He learned that the system was updated every year, with new chains and ropes. The renewal procedure usually took two weeks.

Charles wondered if it was the fastest way to travel in The Rock. Choren explained that due to the load on and load of procedure between the four different elevators, it took as long as traveling the normal way. But it needed less manpower and was therefore incredibly cost-effective.

After the two hour tour, the two men were back in the courtyard.

"Any new news from the realm?" Charles asked as they came to a stop by the pool.

"No, it has actually been quite dead lately. The crop yield has been satisfying though, and its soon harvest season. Two thousand of our men will be sent from The Rock, to help some of the nearby farmers and collect harvest for the castle. So, soon Casterly Rock will be flooded with fresh grain. We need to have a large store when winter comes."

Choren looked at Charles solemnly.

"You know it has been a long summer. Ten years."

"Is that a record?"

The young knight shrugged. "At least in living memory. Which means…"

But Charles finished his sentence knowingly "A long winter."

With a distanced voice Choren responded, "So at least maester Creylen say." he then continued with more resolve "Still winter will come eventually, or as the starks say..."

"Winter Is Coming."

The young Svea had certainly heard that enough times.

Choren scratched his beardless chin."Well, I have always thought about those house words." He paused and tilted his head so he could establish eye contact.

"It is almost pathetic don't you think? I mean they can never be wrong. Obviously, winter always comes back."

Charles raised an eyebrow. Not entirely amused that his family was being criticised.

"So you think there is no meaning in having mottos which are common knowledge?"

Choren made a half nod.

"It is a valuable reminder never to forget to prepare for the harsher times. It is easy to grow oblivious during lavish summers, and meet an unfortunate end during winter."

Charles' speech came out a bit more aggressive than he had intended. So he softened his tone.

"Besides it is grimmer in the north and harsher during winters. So.."

"Good morning. Did you enjoy the book last night?"

It was Maeter Creylen who had walked up beside them. The book he referred to was "Sieges and Assaults" by Harrold Talhoffer. Creylen had given it to Charles the night prior when the young Svea had asked for something stimulating to read. According to the Maester, this had been one of Tywin's favorite books in his youth. So Charles regarded it as a mandatory read.

"I skimmed the first pages, seems very interesting."

"Well, it will probably take you a few weeks to finish it. It's heavy reading. One has to put a lot of mind and thinking into such books."

"I certainly plan on doing just that."

Charles wanted to absorb all information of warfare so he one day could rival the strategic mind of Gustavus Adolphus.

"Yes, well I think that the…." The Maester began to say but was interrupted by a guard.

"Excuse me, but Lord Tywin wishes to speak to you." The guard looked directly at Charles, and the young Svea's stomach made a loop.

Charles walked back to the study. Upon seeing Tywin he realized that he wasn't as nervous as last time.

"Grandfather" He called out with a small bow of his head.

Tywin answered shortly "Charles."

The Lord of Casterly rock was surprisingly not occupied with any other matter. Instead, he had full attention upon his grandson.

Tywin observed Charles expectingly as he spoke. "I have arranged for your education to start today."

Delighted by the news the young Svea's lips curved into a smirk "Thank you." This would be his first chance to prove himself capable.

"You will report to the maester in thirty minutes. He will go through the important lessons you will learn."

The commanding voice of his grandfather made Charles subconsciously straighten his back.

"I will also have the master at arms train with you this afternoon to see your skills."

Charles looked at his grandfather intently.

"I will utilize this opportunity to learn as much as possible."

Tywin made a small nod of approval. Then he spoke in a dismissive tone "Have you ever butchered a chicken or cow before?"

"No, I have not." He answered shortly. Charles could not understand how that was of importance.

"You're a man now. you need to learn that as well."

Charles shrugged, as in answering why not.

"I will have such arrangments made. That will be all." His grandfather's voice was final, and the young Svea rose from his seat.

Charles was about to leave when he suddenly felt very bold.

"About the rest of our family. I have not seen Tyrion around The Rock."

Tywin who had picked up his quill and dipped it in ink looked up annoyed.

"He is in King's Landing." He said drily as he shifted back his attention to the quill.

The scratching of the paper stung in Charles' ears. The sense of comfort was starting to leave him.

"I would like to go there. Sometime"

Tywin scoffed and continued his writing "I'm sure you would. That will be all."

The young Svea was quick on his feet to leave. He had wished to ask about his father. But Tywin's dismissal left no room for further discussion.

As he breathed fresh air outside the Maester approached with steady steps.

"Just the person I was looking for. Lord Tywin wishes me to go through the daily programs with you. So follow me to my quarters."

Charles accompanied the Maester and finally entered the great tower. Once they were inside the packed office Creylen gestures his student to take a seat.

"So, there are a few areas Lord Tywin wants you to practice on. We will exercise history and writing and talk about the geography of Westeros. Ser Benedict Broom will handle the physical aspects of your tutoring."

The young Svea remembered the bald master at arms who had welcomed him in the courtyard.

The Maester continued "You will also practice horse riding. Especially for long distances. I have a trip planned for you in a few days time. So you can learn to command a horse properly in more than just a city environment."

"In battle, one must be able to steer a horse as well," Charles added with enthusiasm.

Creylen furrowed his brow "Yes. But hopefully, you will not see any battles for most of your life."

Charles did not entirely agree. What kind of Svea would he be if he was not proven in battle? Although wishing for war could have him end up a disgrace like Sigismund the reckless.

Maester Creylan eyed him seriously "Hopefully the king's peace shall be kept." When his student made a curt nod, he resumed to the business at hand.

"Now we shall begin with testing your reading and writing skills. I need to see where your grammar and writing abilities are to know how to proceed."

The maester's stool creaked as he stood up "So I would like you to write a summary of one of the chapters in the book I gave you." Creylen collected a few blank papers from a shelf and handed them to Charles.

"A few pages long." He retook his seat with a sigh "Since you have lived in Braavos, I can't know if you have been trained properly. Perhaps you have. We will find out." The elderly man smiled as he added the last sentence. Charles determined look seemed to amuse the Maester.

"Could I write it here?"

Creylen waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, sure. I want it handed in tomorrow. The assignment will take its time. Since you have training, I don't expect that you finish today."

"Then you will have it tomorrow." Charles stated simply and immediately went to collect 'Sieges and Assaults' from his room.

As soon as he had all material prepared Charles started his work. He was very enthusiastic and yearned to know more. Not only to improve his abilities but also to show himself capable. Charles started with simply reading the first chapter. Then he re-read it while taking notes. The next step was to write a summary based on his notes. He reached with his hand and grabbed a new paper to get started.

"Shall we go and eat? I'm quite hungry."

Charles who was mesmerized by his work looked up confused. Then he saw maester Creylan descending from another set of stairs. His stomach released an unsatisfied growl in the realization.

"Good Idea" Charles responded while putting away his quill. He stood up and stretched.

"But you are the wisest here after all."

"Well, I would hope so. A testament to all the chains around my neck."

They descended the tower together. Charles glanced at the swaying necklace as they walked down the steps.

"Which chains do you have?

"Most of them. It's hard to get all without spending almost your entire life at the citadel."

Charles supposed it was unnecessary to acquire every chain. But one branch had always peaked his interest.

"Have you studied the higher mysteries?"

"Only about one maester in a hundred has the valyrian chain, and I'm not one of them. It does not interest me, to be honest. Seems a waste of time to study unnatural things when there are so many tangible subjects."

Charles observed the tranquil pond as they went passed the courtyard.

"You say 'unnatural things,' but there must be something authentic to study, which merits the existence of the subject. Such as valyrian steel, wildfire…"

Creylen cut in "Yes yes. Dragons, magic, the others and The children of the forest. All of that sort. But I would certainly not call it authentic." after a short pause he added, "Theoretical at best."

The maesters cynicism started to puzzle Charles. Wasn't there a lot of evidence for the existence of magic?

"But isn't magic still practiced in Ashai?"

"Well, those are only stories. Nothing to believe."

"So no maester has ever traveled there?" Charles asked very skeptically.

"Well, some have, but I have not spoken to any of them" the maester's face turned disgusted "Some go mad traveling there and come back with stories of magic and other outlandish nonsense. Some never return."

Charles raised his eyebrows listening to the elder man's scoffs. How convenient for Creylen to dub all witnesses of magic, madmen. He wondered if the only ones that did return from Ashai were these supposed 'madmen.' Charles was going to voice his thoughts when Ceylan presumed his rant.

"I can tell you this. We know for a fact that there is no magic in this world. But myths and legends can easily be created."

Charles was so invested in the conversation that he had not noticed that they had reached the dining hall. They took the closest seats to the entrance as Creylen continued.

"Let's talk about 'the others' as an example. Is it true that they ever existed? Or is it just a story that has been escalated for 8000 years?"

"All myths are based on some truth." Charles added sensibly.

"Yes, but I personally believe that the Others were not really an unnatural force. But an invading force from perhaps Essos."

Charles thought about the maester's suggestion for a moment. Then he countered "But If that was the case. How could we explain the existence of the wall?"

"Yes, well I can't explain everything but…"

Recognizing his victory in the argument, Charles persisted.

"How could men build such a thing on their own?"

Creylen looked at his student with preponderance and answered. "It was probably built over thousands of years, not over a short period."

Charles still wasn't convinced. If such a feat was possible without magic and it took thousands of years. Why would the first men even have built it? There must have been a significant threat to warrant its construction. If it were built solely for the wildlings, if anyone at that time could be categorized as a wildling, the extensive time it took to manufacture the wall would nullify its effect against a pressing threat. Talk about investing for the future. Charles almost scoffed and was about to voice his opinion when he again was interrupted by Creylen.

"Most magic is based on legends with no real truth behind it."

Now, this was starting to get agitating. Charles turned in his chair and decided to drop the matter of 'the wall' and cut to the chase.

"Well, what about dragons surely you believe they existed?"

"It is highly probable" Creylen sounded almost reluctant.

"Since there are actual skulls left." Charles said while gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point.

The maester nodded and started eating. Charles followed his tutor's example. After a few bites, Creylen spoke with his general tone again.

"It is hard to argue against the existence of Dragons. Some try, but they are foolish. You only need to travel to Kings Landing to see the skulls, and read all the stories through hundreds of years."

Charles relaxed feeling content in the maester's capitulation. Creylen spotted his student's smirk and called out amused. "Yes, they existed, but were dragons really magical? They were probably just an animal, like a horse."

Charles supposed that could be true and ate a few moments in silence. Then he perked with a cocky grin.

"But an animal need to have very special biology to breathe fire."

Creylen chuckled and admitted, "Well it would be quite the sight to see a horse breathing fire."

The sound of something metal touching stone caught the young Sveas attention. Only a few meters away Ser benedict broom stood leaning against the stone opening with his gauntlet-clad arm. Charles understood it was time for swords to do the talking. He looked to Creylen who nodded at him encouragingly. With his stomach satisfied Charles followed the master at arms out to the courtyard.

He saw Wilhelm and Martyn sparring together. Beside them were two other people facing each other, who Charles' did not recognize. Probably guards or other staff members.

"Here is a sparring sword." Benedict called out and handed the blunted weapon to Charles. The young Svea grabbed it with his left hand and removed his amber scabbard with his right. There was no advantage in having his family heirloom weigh him down.

Then Charles figured that a training session did get sweaty. He sighed at his unnecessary one-handed procedure and put the training sword on the ground to use both hands to remove his Svea coat.

"So just the basics now. Martyn, come here."

The Lannister boy came running towards the master at arms. When both Charles and Martyn stood in ready positions, Benedict called out "Begin!"

Charles immediately went on the offensive. He cleaved downward, and when the boy blocked, Charles instantly followed up with swinging at his opponent's different sides. They clashed a few times, then Martyn went for a thrust which Charles maneuvered around and used its momentum to throw his opponent to the ground in a parry. Not being dismayed Martyn rose and the duel continued.

Charles noticed that the Lannister boy fought with a simple combat style, so Charles utilized the water dance to dodge blows and then parry or slash. He also had the obvious advantage of age and height. So the match wasn't fair. But it wasn't in Charles nature to back down.

"Okay." The master at arms called out after a panting Martyn once again found himself on the ground. Benedict looked at the other boy.

"Willhelm your turn."

With his next opponent, Charles increased his speed. He wanted to beat Wilhelm quickly to save his strength for a more worthy opponent. Soon enough the boy was knocked into the dirt.

Benedict walked up to the victor and crossed his arms.

"Well, where have you learned all those skills?"

Why was everyone so surprised of his abilities?

"I have undergone a martial education from many cultures." Charles answered with a proud smirk. In the corner of his eye, he could see Damion, Choren and maester Creylen join the spectators. His grandfather could not be seen. Not that it surprised him

Benedict drew his sword "Let's try you and me."

When they both had their guard up sterlan commanded. "Now I want you to block my attacks."

Charles nodded and prepared himself. Benedict then commenced his assault. Charles quickly realized how perfected his opponent's strikes were and how lacking his defense was compared. Several strikes hit the young Svea without him being able to deflect them. Charles was gradually pushed backward, but to his delight managed to find footing and fend off the last attacks.

Sweating and panting Charles listened to the master at arms.

"Still, pretty good I must say. You have a lot of potential. Now you shall attack me."

Charles nodded and grasped his sword determined to do better. He started swinging towards the Benedict who fended him off with skillful ease. But Charles heightened his momentum giving it all. He fully committed to the water dancing and to his great triumph managed to get a hit on Benedict. It would have been a flesh wound in a battle most probably, but still.

"Impressive. You have a solid offense, but your defense is still not valid for a battle. Now groups of two!"

They practice for two more hours, and Charles was drenched in sweat by the end of it. Perhaps he should have shed his yellow tunic as well, Charles thought.

"That is all for today. Wash up boys."

A worker collected all the sparring swords, and Charles picked up his coat and sheath ready to return to his room. He was about to leave when a servant girl intercepted him.

"M'lord a bath has been prepared in your room."

"Oh, thank you."

The girl curtsied and left towards the kitchen. When Charles entered his chamber, there was indeed a tub filled with hot water to his delight. On the bed laid two neatly foiled towels and a vat of various soaps. His indulgence seemed to have been heightened moving here. Not that he complained. After riding himself of his soaked clothes, Charles slowly lowered himself into the tub. He just sat there in harmony, slipping his body lower and lower as the water cooled. When the comfortable heat started to vanish, Charles hurried in utilizing the soaps to clean himself.

The air bit cold onto his partially wet hair as a newly clothed Charles rushed towards the Maester's tower. He was determined, to finish ahead of time. Charles began with reviewing the notes he had previously written. Then he utilized them to write a summary of 'Chapter 1: Trebuchets'. When he was satisfied, Charles correct read it and rewrote the summary with alterations on a different paper. As he overviewed his first paragraph, the young Svea felt a swell of pride. Charles had finished ahead of schedule, and he was satisfied with the result.

'A Trebuchet is a type of catapult used in siege warfare. One may hurl large stones or other missiles to extermenate cities and forts. The deadly artillery piece operates with a sling arm loaded with a massive boulder. After generations of varying design, there are effectively two types practical for battle. The first is a Traction Trebuchet, which should be furnished with fifty to a hundred ropes. Two men pull every rope to produce enough force to propel the boulder. The second is a counterweight Trebuchet. It has the convenience of impact, range, accuracy, and manpower, while a Traction Trebuchet demands fewer resources and can fire faster. The first requires greater skill in handling, the second in design.'

"Oh, there you are. You must have been here for hours. Everyone has already had dinner."

Charles smiled victoriously at the maester. It mattered little to him; he, after all, had just triumphed.

"I had to finish my work. I think I can hand it in actually." Charles rose up and presented his neat stack of papers to Creylen.

The maester looked astonished for a moment then he trodded from the staircase towards his student's hand out. With shared enthusiasm, he exclaimed "You are quick. Well, I will read it for tomorrow morning. We can discuss the result then."

Charles left the tower; his head held high and with 'Sieges and Assaults' clutched to the chest. It was dark outside, and the gravel flew from the impact of his black boots. After a swift but serene supper, Charles returned to his apartments. He lit a single cozy candle and read his book for two additional hours before dozing off.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's note:**

Hello dear readers. It may be a bit random to post the first AN in chapter 5, but I did not think it entirely necessary until this point. I figured you guys deserved some explanations. Better late than never I suppose. In Chapter 1 the author usually writes an Author's Note explaining the rules for the fanfic. But I skipped this since I view the entire first chapter as a set up to the story.

But here is some more info for you as a thank you for sticking with the story: Yes this is an AU (Obviously). The timeline of the story is at the beginning of the show. A majority of aspects are borrowed from the books, but I imagine all the characters looking like they do in the show. Since I have created house Svea, a few things have changed. Most of the changes should be known when you have read this far. The only other major character I have created that alters the timeline is Lann. The reason for Lann's existence is so Charles can be related to the Lannister's without messing too much with the other Characters' backstory. If he were Jaime, Cersies or Tyrion's son that would have changed the premise significantly. And Lann, rest his soul, is a lovely character anyway.

As a Swedish Game of Thrones fan who has seen the major cracks that have formed since the show went from season 5 to 7, and as an enthusiast of Swedish history I decided to mesh two of my great interests to explore the wonders of Westeros in a different light. Especially now when the show dissatisfies my passion for GOT.

A huge shoutout to my friend who helps me form this story. This is a passion project of ours. I have many chapters planned out. Probably material for 20 chapters at the moment. But more is coming steadily. Charle's fate has therefore not been sealed. His story is shaped by the choices he makes. So I don't know myself where he will land.

You can expect an update at least every month. But my goal is always every week, which usually turns to every two weeks.

I think I have rambled on for some time now. Please feel free to review. If it either is criticism, thoughts, theories, or even hopes of what Charles will do. I love them, and I will respond to all reviews. If I can quote Jpena: "The more reviews, the faster the updates." It's just logic ;)

* * *

"Morning guards" Charles greeted when entering the courtyard. Two men stood posted at the outdoor. Workers could be seen collecting water from the pond.

"Morning m'lord."

Charles yawned and turned to the soldiers.

"Quiet night?" It was a ridiculous question, but he wanted to entertain the poor souls who were ensnared in this monotone duty.

"As always."

"So do you have something to pass the time while standing there?"

The guard to the left looked at his partner and shrugged "Talk sometimes." then he added jokingly "If the company is preferable."

Charles could have sworn he saw the second guard raise his eyebrows before responding.

"Well, we have only been positioned here for two and a half hours."

Charles bowed his head "Well keep at it, boys!"

After eating a fast breakfast, he once again ascended the steps of the great tower. Eager to hear the result of his assignment. Creylen sat at his desk and sealed a freshly written letter.

"Aa good morning. Had a pleasant sleep?"

"Morning maester, Indeed I had"

With a loud sigh, Charles took a seat in front of Creylen. He placed both his arms on the table and leaned over with an expecting expression.

"How was the essay?"

Creylen placed the sealed letter by the side and clasped his hands together.

"Well I must say, I was impressed actually. I had expected less. The grammar, the spelling." he paused "And the exposition is quite excellent. I don't think we need to work at this."

"Really?"

"No, its evident that Lord Tywin's money invested in your tutoring has been put to good use. I did not find more than one spelling mistake." Creylen picked up the essay and placed it in front of Charles. Then the maester moved his finger to the first neatly written paragraph.

"Here, you see this word…." Charles looked closer and saw the tidy word 'Extermenate.'

"It should be an 'I' there."

"Aha..." Came the words from the young student, but his thoughts sung a different song. "Damn." Or in the words of Gared who were one of the soldiers that accompanied him to Westeros: "Fucking oversights." Gared had miscounted his dice during a game of Farkle; that victory had been sweet.

Creylen collected the papers again. "But otherwise very good."

"Thank you."

"Have you written many essays in your tutoring?"

Charles thought for a moment. "Well, It was the main thing Myron focused on. There is no hindrance to all the imagination you can put into writing."

The maester eyed his pupil with fascination. "I saw that in your exposition, introduction, and ending. It was booked together excellently. So we don't need to work with this. I had expected to dedicate more than a week on this."

"Great then we can get ahead," Charles spoke with satisfaction.

Creylen nodded and reached into his shelf to pull out three scrolls. He unfolded the map on the table while saying "I thought that we could discuss some of the areas and rivers of the Westerlands."

The rest of the morning Creylen lectured Charles on a few rivers and terrains. One of the regions that peaked extra interest for the young Svea was Ashmark, which was entirely protected by mountains.

"Now I think its time for a break. You can go and have a meal. I need to write some letters. "

As his new routine dictated, he headed to Benedict after eating to develop his swordplay.

When his students were geared and rounded up the master at arms bellowed "Today we are practicing defense."

Charles dueled with Robar, one of the guards. During training, Benedict walked off to greet a stranger clad in crimson that conversated with Choren and Damion. Benedict then wandered back while the rest of the group headed for Tywin's office.

"Alright, keep it up! Wilhelm, Martyn you two against Charles."

The two boys got some hits on their opponent. But the young Svea managed quite well to keep his two opponents at bay. Charles always tried to maneuver himself, so he only faced one opponent at a time. He had learned many different techniques, and his specialty was quickness. Although it was hard dueling two opponents that were going berserk, Charles dodged and evaded. He shifted his body fluidly which was an easier feat without armor. The two Lannister boys, therefore, had a hard time hitting him. In the corner of his eye, Charles could see that they had an audience. The closest posted guards and the workers by the pond viewed them intently. Even the kitchen personal poked out their heads from the entrance.

At this moment Charles truly felt at home.

When Whilhem stood disarmed and Martyn laid panting on the ground the master at arms called out.

"Alright, Charles"

"Yes"

"You will fight against Robar and Joryn."

Charles viewed his two new opponents. Now, this was going to a challenge. Martyn and Wilhelm were children, so handling them had not been too difficult. Robar was brawny, and Joryn was roughly his height. He had dueled both of them individually, and they had proven to be adept fighters. Charles prepared himself with a righteous smirk. Never feeling disheartened by a challenge.

They clashed. The young Svea were forced into to the defensive as both his opponents mercilessly slashed with great intensity. Joryn aimed a cleave towards Charles' shoulder simultaneously as Robar thrust towards his chest, their swords collided. Jorryn knocked Robar's sword into a hit onto Charles left arm. The young Svea hissed in pain, but he managed to parry the next strike from Jorryn and twirled his body, so Jorryn was placed behind Robar. As he had predicted, Robar who had just refound his grip on the sword attacked him head-on, blocking out his ally instead of letting him recover. Charles knew that the brawny guard had longer arms and preferred to strike in a safe reach, so he pressed his advantage and used his superior speed to attack in a flurry of blows. His closeness and pace drove Robar to take a huge step backward. To Charles' great delight, Robar collided with Jorryn who had not entierly recovered. In Robar's confusion, Charles quickly slashed and disarmed his opponent. The young Svea then placed the practice sword on Robar's neck.

"I yield" The guard exhaled. Then Robar started laughing "Not bad."

Charles felt incredibly smug and shot a glance towards Benedict to see if the master at arms had seen his victory. But Benedict had his attention elsewhere. Choren had run up to talk with the master at arms.

Charles turned back to Jorryn who had pushed Robar aside and placed himself in a high guard.

The combatant's focus was suddenly averted by Benedict's mighty voice "Alright everybody, listen up. Ser Brax will take over the education from here. I need to go to a meeting."

As Benedict walked of Choren stepped forward.

"We will duel two against two, so pair up everyone."

Jorryn grunted but grabbed the sword that laid on the ground and pushed it into Robar's Chest. Martyn ran up to Charles and tugged his sleeve.

"I want to fight with you."

Charles nodded distantly. He had his focus on Benedict who met up with a group of four people outside of his grandfather's office. One of them looked to be Tywin himself. The assembly then headed off. Charles wondered which room this meeting was located. But his curiosity was interrupted by Robar.

"Are you waiting for us to yield without a fight 'Lord Charles'?"

After an additional hour of training, Choren called out "That will be all for today. Now everyone can go and wash up."

Charles did just that. When he had slipped into fresh clothes, he decided it was time to visit the barracks and see how the gang that had escorted him to Westeros held up.

"M'lord" A guard called Alar breathed as Charles entered the crowded building.

"Sorry boys, I would have visited sooner. But my grandfather commanded me to resume my education. So my days have been quite busy." He clapped the guard called Gared on the shoulder.

Gared dropped the dice he held in his hands on the table and grinned foolishly.

"Well, we did not expect you anyway." Then he looked over the table and erupted in his standard donkey laughter.

Charles beamed and looked at Alar who rolled his eyes and sighed. The young Svea settled down with the soldiers and shared a drink. They talk about epic bandit raids, Charles shared some of his stories from Braavos. None of the guards had been to the place where he grew up. The young Svea drank some of the soldier's beer, but mostly to be polite. The guards were not drunk either but there was a jolly atmosphere. After a lengthy discussion, they reached the topic of patrol and rotations.

"All of us are only guarding the upper levels. So we are Tywin's Private household guard. We usually stand posted three hours in a shift." Said Alar

"And how is ser Sterlan?" Charles asked while raising the tankard to his mouth.

"Well, he does not say much, uses few words. Strict" Alar responded quickly, but his tone was filled with respect.

Gared laughed "Well you could almost say he is as strict as Tywin."

Alar placed a palm over his face "That's not really funny."

"Oh sorry m'lord. But his name is Sterlan after all so if he wasn't stern it would be a disappointment." The donkey sound erupted from the guard.

"You have to excuse Gareds bad jokes." Alar's face twisted comically "Imagine that we are usually posted together. So nine hours in a row listening to his jokes" He sighed "Uh gosh. Sometimes I could fling myself from the rock."

Charles laughed heartily then he looked to Alar. "So when does your shift start? Do you have a night shift?"

"Great right... I don't know when it starts though. They ring the bell, and then we know."

"Well keep at it," Charles said while standing. "I think its time for dinner.

"Thank you for your company m'lord" Alar said while bowing his head respectfully.

The young Svea returned the courtesy "See you around the rock."

On his way to the dining hall, Charles spotted Choren walking across the courtyard. He quickened his pace to stroll beside the knight.

"How are you doing" Choren asked with a smile.

"Have you dinned yet?"

"No" The dashing knight turned his head.

"Then let's go." He was responded with a nod and the two men headed to the dining hall.

"I saw someone new arriving during sparring."

"Oh, that was Ser Casper Lannister, head of the fleet."

"And they all went off to some meeting?" Curiosity burned inside Charles.

Choren answered nonchalantly "Well yes, Tywin's household had a meeting. The council of the castle."

They young Svea wished he could be part of the council it would indeed prove interesting. Then he asked a bit confused "You are not part of the council?"

"Ehm no... I actually have no official position. I'm a Sworn sword to Tywin. One of his personal knights. "

"So if there is a mission you are one of the first to be commissioned?"

Choren sat down at a table an said with a sigh "Yeah, but I don't want any more than that. I don't crave an official position. It's nothing I can handle at the moment."

"Why not?" Charles inquired perplexed. How come Choren had no higher ambitions when his own meant everything to him.

"It's a lot of responsibility. A lot of work. Right now I just want to live in the moment. Have some guard duties here and there and commit to my training."

"What about some extra purpose? Some adventure" Charles called raising his fork which had impaled a potato.

"Well adventure I have nothing against, but if I, for example, were master at arms. It's work all day."

"Hmm.." Charles thought out loud. Then he remembered his discussion with Damion. Work could certainly take its toll on a person.

Choren continued with a bit more excitement "But I enjoy when I'm sent on missions, escorting you her for example." Then he paused and continued with a more somber tone. "But Tywin is usually at the rock. So I don't get to travel a lot. But Sometimes I go on missions."

"Perhaps someday we will go on a mission." Charles said uplifting.

"Yeah, that would be fun. You are good company."

Charles nodded with a grin "The feeling is mutual. Can't imagine how it would have been if I was accompanied by Sterlan all the way."

This made Choren snicker "Well he is quite the man. But he is effective."

"Sure, but I appreciate there was a welcoming person to acquaint me with the area. I was pretty nervous as you can understand."

Choren swallowed and looked at his companion and spoke warmly "And how do you feel now? Feel at home?"

Charles studied the dining hall watching the servants walk across the room and clean the table. Then he saw maester Creylen through the exit heading for his tower. He felt very comfortable.

"Indeed I do. Although, I have to say my grandfather is very... on point. Hopefully, I will get a chance to prove my self." His hand went to the handle of Vasa while he viewed Choren determined. "I will start by doing all I can with my education. Hopefully, I will meet the rest of my family once I'm done. Have you ever been to Kingslanding?"

Choren leaned back with what looked to be a bitter expression. "No I have not. I have only been in the Westerlands. Perhaps rode past the borders into the Riverlands."

"Tournament?"

"No a scouting mission. I and some of Tywins men met with one of the lords there. A border dispute."

Charles nodded and continued feasting on his pork.

"So can you tell me something about the Brax family?"

"Well, my cousin's branch of the family rules the Hornvale. When I was young, I did not want to spend my entire life in the place I was born." Chore made a hand motion "Gets so boring. So I set out and a few years later I got into the service of Lord Tywin."

Intrigued Charles inquired "How did that come to pass?"

The dashing knight put his fork on the table and exhaled. "Well, I was at a tournament." Then he quickly cut in as he saw Charles' excitement "Not participating though." Then Coren continued "Lord Tywin was there, and we spoke at the dinner, and I asked him if he had a place in his household." He clasped his hands together "Then I was allowed to come here. Not as a Sworn sword though, merely a courtier. I spoke more with him as the time passed, and I think he enjoyed my company, to the extent he can enjoy anyone's company. He wanted a Sworn sword to send on missions. Ser Sterlan can't be sent away all the time. So I have been a sworn Sword to him for almost three years now."

Charles wasn't overly impressed with the story. He had thought something more intriguing placed Choren at Casterly Rock. There was also a small feeling of jealousy building inside him. His grandfather probably enjoyed Choren's company more than his. Still, it was quite a feat to be selected by Tywin Lannister.

"Are there many Sworn swords in his service?"

"Well, he has many knights under his command. But I'm the only knight sworn to him directly."

This made the young Svea more impressed. "Interesting. Then that is quite an honor."

Choren waved his hand dismissively "He does not really need many knights sworn to him that way."

To think Choren filled the spot of a singular position after a meeting on a tournament. One he did not even participate in. Charles had never been to such a magnificent spectacle. But he hoped to sign up to the lists and hopefully win one day.

"How often are there tournaments?"

Choren pondered for a moment. "Depends. We had one two months ago In Lannisport. Although, King Robert hosts many tournaments. I think he had one a week or so ago."

"Any special celebration?"

"I think it was called 'the summer tournament.'" Choren scoffed "It is actually the fourth 'summer tournament.' He likes tournaments our King. There are always generous prizes."

"Have you participated in a Tournament?" Charles asked as he finished the last scrap on his plate.

Choren took a sip from his wine goblet. "Yes, three. All of them in Lannisport."

"And how did it go?" Charles asked with expecting excitement.

Chore grinned in response "Quite good actually. I was knighted after my first tournament. I defeated five knights in a row." As Charles' eyes widened in aw Choren raised both hands and added modestly "I have been training a big portion of my life to do well in the tournaments."

"I want to train for tournaments." The young Svea spoke with resolve.

"I spoke to Maester Creylen. You are going to train lance and horse."

Charles felt content and looked to his clean plate and yawned "I think I will go to my reading now."

"We will speak later." Choren said and inclined his head.

The next day Charles bumped into Sterlan on his way to breakfast. He tried to small talk, but the commander of the household guard unsurprisingly seemed very disinterested. He managed to escape the conversation with enough grace and settle down to eat. From the high table, he had a decent view over the courtyard. Charles could observe what Sterlan had been so focused on. Passing by were the commander of the household guard and three additional soldiers. Sterlan walked in front of two soldiers who carried a chest. Most likely filled with gold. The third guard walked behind. It looked to be completely routine.

When he was finished, Charles thanked the staff for the meal and headed for the maester's tower for his lecture.

"We will continue to discuss the principal families of the Westerlands," Creylen announced after Charles had taken a seat.

The three coming days Charles read his book and attended the theoretical and physical lessons. Additionally, he spent some time with Wilhelm and Martyn and conversated with Alar and some of the other guards. On the third day as he exit after breakfast, Casper Lannister went to greet him.

"Charles is it?"

The young Svea bowed his head "And you must be Ser Casper Lannister, head of the Lannister fleet. It's a pleasure." They shook hands, and Charles added: "I saw you a few days ago."

"Yes, I apologies for not introducing myself earlier. Attending the fleet is busy work. So I am not at the Rock often. Mostly urgent matters brings me here."

Charles completely understood and asked with analytical curiosity "How large is our fleet?"

Casper gestured past the Tower were the sea lay hidden. "Well, the lords who have ships gives them to our command effective immediately. So we have a hundred ships at our disposal."

"Ready to Crush a Greyjoy raid?" Charles added with a smirk.

"Hah, I wish. But those cowards are at their islands after we crushed them last time. Many of our ships are patrolling the sea borders in case the Greyjoys would attempt something. Either way, it keeps the crew occupied. Its boring just sitting in Lannisport."

"Which is superior in battle a Lannister Warship or a Greyjoy Warship?" The young Svea inquired wanting to know from an expert.

"It depends.." Casper started to say, and Charles could not help to think 'doesn't it always.' But he continued to listen "...which ship design it is, who fires first, the experience of the crew. The Greyjoy are quite good at naval warfare. Their ships are fast, but our ships are usually stronger. Afterall, we have more gold to invest in equipment."

Charles opened his mouth to talk, but he was interrupted by a voice behind his back.

"Lord Tywin requests to see you in his office."

Charles turned around, and indeed it was a guard. He looked over at Casper who smiled politely.

"Its just as well, I need to get back to work."

So the last Svea and the head of the fleet went their separate ways. Charles walked to the study and took his normal seat in front of the desk. Tywin sat with his hands together and viewed his grandson formally.

"Having a good time here?"

Charles who sat straight smiled at his grandfather and answered. "Very. I also appreciate the education. I am doing the best I can."

A sound of recognition of Charles statement left Tywin.

"Maester Creylen says you are doing fine. You are achieving over expectation. It seems my payments in your education has paid off."

There was a small curve on Tywin's lips. Charles swelled with Pride, even though his grandfather had the look of a man who had found two gold dragons in a stash he had simply stored one.

"I am glad you think so."

Tywins blue-green eyes narrowed somewhat, and he lightly tilted his head before stating "Today you are going with Ser Choren to Practice your riding. You need to be able to command a horse in battle."

Charles nodded, excitement displayed in his identical eyes.

Tywin stacked a few empty papers on the table as he continued.

"Ser Choren is already on the ground floor. So I will have two guards escort you down to the main entrance. You will stay at the lower levels for a few days. So you have easy access to the training."

Tywin looked at his grandson as he finished his sentence in a very formal tone. After a small moment of silence, Charles understood that was the end of it and stood. He bowed and said "Very well" before he left the room. Charles had been burning to ask about his father at every meeting with Tywin. But his grandfather was very evident in his dismissals, so he had not dared.

"Well Well" The familiar voice could be heard as Charles stepped into the courtyard. He immediately recognized the two guards standing before him.

"Gared, Alar"

Gared nudged the young Svea lightly on the shoulder "Well lucky you; we are your escort haha."

"Maybe not so lucky." Charles said and winked at Alar.

"But you will keep Gared at bay won't you?"

Alar sighed "Well I am trying my best. Not that I have found any progress with it."

The journey down through The Rock was significantly faster and as Charles noted: definitely not as tiring. They soon reached the gate where Choren and four more soldiers stood mounted.

"Time for the twelfth field marshal to finally get proper guidance in the art of riding." Choren said in a jest-mock voice as Charles mounted.

Charles shot the dashing knight his best cocky grin. "Try to keep up will you." Then he spurred his horse forward leaving a laughing Choren behind.

They rode out from The Rock some 250 meters. The place chosen for practice was a grass plane with a few sprouted trees. The guards stoped in a line out of the way while Charles and Choren halted, so their horses were facing each other. Choren drew two practice swords and handed one to Charles.

"Alright, now we will train so you can fight while mounted on a horse."

They troted their mounts forward, so they were parallel. Then they commenced dueling while mounted. It was tiring, and Charles found it hard to keep up with Chorens blows while adjusting to his horse's movement. It proved a formidable challenge and Choren was far superior.

They then proceed to train charging towards each other, then halt and duel. The next element was hitting targets with the sword while the horse was in full gallop. After a few hours of labor, they took a break and rode back to eat lunch inside the gates. After resting an hour, they headed back out to continue. The training progressed until supper. When they were done, Charles felt completely drained. He was drenched in sweat, and so was Choren. Only the guards were still fresh.

Charles got temporary quaters at the bottom, where he rested and ate. He wanted to read but had no energy. Day two they continued exercising the same things. On day three they used a lance. Before lunch, he trained hitting a hay man while charging. It was very monotonous, but Charles found it incredibly entertaining. He, after all, aspired to get better so he could eventually win a tournament. The last hour he practiced riding up close to Choren, so he was in the lance's hitting radius. Day four they continued with the lance and Charles asked a lot of questions wanting to know all he could.

The entire training session lasted six days total. At the sixth day, Charles' legs were aching and his body wasted. They had a resting day, and on day eight they moved towards the top. The trip up was not enjoyable, his whole body ached. It felt like his lower body were shaped according to the saddle.

"Well, we are back," Choren called out as they entered the familiar courtyard.

Charles sighed in exhaustion. Ready to commit to theoretical exercise. Tiredly Charles pointed to his left.

"Lets have some dinner then."

They were served pigeon pie, and the two men ate in relative silence. Both tired after the week. Charles saw with heavy eyes as a mouse ran across the floor.

Charles yawned but pushed himself up. "Now to the Maester."

Choren blinked twice then he said amused "Perhaps you should rest for the remainder of the day and take care of that tomorrow."

Charles felt like slumping back into his chair, but his hand found the sword handle, and he took a deep breath. With determination, he spoke "Perhaps, but I will go and speak with Creylen anyway."

When his tired legs finally took him up the last step into the maester's office, he saw in his dismay that Creylen wasn't there.

He viewed the extra set of stairs leading up to the rookery with malice. But he managed to climb up and to Charle's great relief he saw the maester feeding some ravens in their cage.

"Aa it was some days ago you were here last" Creylen called out as he noticed who had arrived.

Charles leaned against the wall "Indeed, I'm exhausted but ready for any assignment."

Creylen raised an eyebrow but smiled "Rest, and we will talk tomorrow."

It felt like a miracle as Charles stood before his feather bed. He plummeted into the inviting silks and almost fell asleep with his clothes on.

With renewed energy, Charles greeted the maester the next day.

"I have a new task," Creylen announced. "I want you to write an essay about critical houses sworn to house Lannisters and some of the basic geography of the Westerlands. Descriptions of their lands, what rivers that pass through, forests, Roads and such."

"A long essay then."

Creylen nodded confirmingly "We are talking at least thirty pages."

Charles' eyes widened, it would be the longest text he had written. But he quickly collected himself.

"How many days?"

"Well, how many do you think you need? I will give you a week."

"Very well" Charles answered after a moment of consideration. He would try his best to finish ahead of time as always.

Creylen reached behind his desk and plucked a few items from a shelf. "I have brought you some books. Four different that you can use as sources. I think they will serve you well."

The young Svea received the books and gave Creylen a resolute look. "I will start immediately."

He tackled the challenge with the outmost concentration possible, spending as much time writing imaginable each day. He ate fast meals and limited the reading time of his war book. But he stilled spared two hours every afternoon. Four days into the assignment a guard ascended the steps into the tower where Charles sat engulfed in his scribbling. He immediately understood what his business was.

When Charles entered Lord Tywin's study, his grandfather wasn't sitting behind his desk. He stood looking out of a window at the back of his office. His arms placed behind his back.

"You called for me, grandfather." Charles carefully announced. Not knowing if he had noticed his entrance.

Tywin turned and gestured to the usual chair and spoke calmly "Charles, you can sit."

As the young Svea obliged his grandfather turned and resumed to look out of the window. It was dead silent in the room. Charles shifted nervously in his seat as his grandfather ominously looked through the glass. Charles could see Tywin's reflection, he looked to be in deep thought.

As the young Svea started to wonder if he was expected to say something Tywin reached with his arm and picked up a wine goblet. He took a sip and momentarily glanced out the window. Then he put the goblet down and walked to his desk where he stopped, standing behind his chair.

"I hear you make improvements. Is maester Creylan good to you?" Tywin finally spoke in his deep voice. His tone sounded softer than usual.

Charles was a bit confounded with his grandfather's concern but answered "Well yes, we are getting along just well. He is a knowledgeable man, and I relish the opportunity to learn as much as I can from him."

"Good" Tywin uttered quietly. More to himself. Then he slowly paced around the chair and leaned against the edge of the table.

"And your training with Ser Choren and Ser Benedict?" Tywin inquired regarding Charles from his diagonal standpoint.

"Progressing. Working on my defense." While Charles was talking Tywin stepped from the table and turned his back to his grandson eyeing a bookcase while listening. He then rotated his body establishing eye contact as Charles continued to say:

"And my offense and the riding practice is going very well."

Again his grandfather was on the move. Charles felt incredibly confused as his he followed Tywin with his gaze. Between the space of Charles' chair and the desk, the lord of Casterly Rock settled. He leaned against the table, facing Charles who was sitting in front of him.

Feeling encouraged with the closeness Charles added "I hope to participate in a tourney in the future. To see the results pay off."

"Well, first you need to train more. So you don't embarrass yourself." Tywin answered, but it did not sound as harsh as it could have been.

Identical eyes met. "Of course. I would never dream of it." Charles spoke with resolve. If he had hoped to impress the elder he had been wrong for the next words that Tywin spoke stung.

"Your house has been an embarrassment to the entire realm."

Charles averted his eyes and looked into the floor not knowing what to respond.

Tywin continued "You will not go in that footstep." There was a higlight in his voice as he said YOU. Charles looked back at his grandfather.

"You need to be smarter than your father was." Tywin eyed him meaningly.

"My father…." Charles started. This was his chance to inquire some truth about Lann and Tywin's relationship. But he decided to tackle it softly "...What was his role in the Lannister family?"

There was a short silence as Tywin looked at Charles intently. The deadness of the room and the intenseness of his grandfather's gaze started to form cold sweat on the young man's brow. Perhaps he spoke out of term to soon.

But to his surprise, there wasn't coldness in Tywin's voice as he spoke. Instead, his tone was considerate. "You know where your father's name originates right?"

"Yes, Lann the clever" Charles answered carefully.

"Exactly. Lann the clever founded this house thousands of years ago." There was a short break in his speech as his voice turned bitter and his gaze vacant. "But Lann was not clever. If he were recorded by the maesters, he would probably be known as Lann the stupid." Tywin reestablished eye contact "He abandoned his family. And Me his father. To fight for your house, the Svea."

Charles felt honor bound to say something in his father's defense, especially since his grandfather's last statement seemed like a personal attack.

"But he was wed to my mother. Wasn't he bound to defend her?"

Tywin scoffed "Well it was King Aerys who brought him into house Svea." He paused and resumed his lecturing voice "Anyway he made a fool out of himself and turned his back on his family to fight for the mad king."

"It was foolish…" Charles concurred silently. Tywin eyed him approvingly.

"You have a chance to reshape your house. And make sure you do not abandon your real family. The Lannisters."

Charles was silent, but his face was determined. His grandfather moved even closer, his gaze penetrating.

"I want you to remember that. Who your true family is."

The last statement fed Charles' need of proving his worth. He would make it his life duty to live up to his grandfather's expectations. As Tywin sat down in his own chair on the other side of the desk, Charles met the expecting look and uttered "Always."

Tywins facial features turned smug for a moment "Next week I will have Ser Choren bring you down again to practice with the horse. For now, you can focus on your essay."

Charles recognized the dismissive last sentence but felt extra bold after his declaration of loyalty and spoke "If I may ask grandfather. What happened to Three crowns after the war?"

Tywin narrowed his eyes. "You can go" His voice was cold as ice.

Charles got chills down his spine and stumbled out of the office pale. He cursed himself for the foolish question when otherwise the discussion had gone so well.

"Aa had a meeting with your loving grandfather?"

Charles spun around to see Choren Brax leaning against one of the pillars by the pond. Upon seeing the knight, some of the color returned to his face.

"Always a cheerful exit." Charles muttered.

He ate in the hall while Choren stood by his side.

"Well, we are going to continue mounted training," Charles said, trying to lighten his own mood.

"Next week I heard. After your essay is done."

"Yes.."

He would have to compensate and finish his work as soon as possible. To prove that he had his focus in the right place. But he still had some ten pages left to write, so he needed to return to the task.


	7. Chapter 6

A few more days passed by as Charles worked diligently to finish his work. Tywin's words embedded in his mind after their last meeting. He wanted more answers about his father but knew better than to pry with his grandfather. But one day he arrived at the dining hall and spotted Kevan Lannister at the high table. He settled beside his Tywin's brother and asked after some small talk:

"So Tywin said that my father abandoned the family. Is it true?"

Kevan answered very plainly but not unkindly "Well your father did abandon the family. But I don't think he had much choice. He was commanded by the mad king to be fostered in Highgarden. But at the same time, he also chose to fight for the mad king even though Tywin wanted him to stay here at The Rock."

"And the marriage with my mother was it my grandfather's will?"

"No no. That was King Aerys'."

Charles' shoulders slumped. His existence was based on a slight against Tywin.

"Did you know my father?" Charles asked wondering if perhaps Kevan had more love for Lann.

"Not that well. He did not spend much time here. But he was young and foolish, a disappointment to Tywin. My brother wanted to train him as his heir, but instead, he left for the Svea."

"So he was officially Tywin's heir. No one claimed that he was, well…"

Kevan understood what the young man was referring to and answered. "Well, the opinions went differently. But he could have been Tywin's heir, if Lann was worthy enough. I think he would have needed it now with Jaime in the Kingsguard."

Well, Robert Baratheon had made sure that Lann's chances of inheriting the Westerlands were nill. But perhaps Charles himself could succeed The Rock if he was worthy enough. Although, would Tywin ever let a Svea replace the Lannisters? Besides he needed to claim his birthright first.

"Do you know what happened to Three Crowns after the war?"

Kevan scratched his beardless chin in ponderance. "The newly crowned King hated Three Crowns. For what it represented. But it is a good fortress. So it was given to some minor lord. I don't know who holds it at the moment. But.."

"It still stands" Charles finished relived.

Kevan nodded "It still stands. From what I have heard, but I haven't been to Kingslanding for many years."

"Why was I banished when so many others were pardoned" Charles gloomily spat.

"Even the Greyjoy boy was given as a warden to the Starks. "

The knight eyed him sympathetically "Well the king. He wanted your head."

"Really?" His hatred for the man started to emerge.

Kevan explained calmly "To Robert, House Svea is equivalent to House Targaryen. It is said that a few Caroleans helped abduct Lyanna Stark. They also fought Robert fiercely, which almost lead to his defeat. Even in the aftermath of the war, the remaining Caroleans continued to resist Robert for more than a year. At Dargonstone, they held the Castle until Stannis made them yield. So he probably hated the Svea as much as he hated the Targaryens. Therefore he could not have the heir to Svea, the last Svea presence. He wanted to banish you for eternity, which Tywin spoke against. It is also hard to argue against a newly crowned King who just won a great war, with all the confidence on his side. So Tywin made him agree that you could return when you were seventeen. Then I also believe Tywin wanted it as well, considering what Lann represented to him."

"A failure." Charles uttered plainly. Although it pained him, it was the truth.

"Yes."

Chares twirled the knife around on the table. "He is hard to impress. But I will do everything in my power to improve my father's name, and do right where he failed."

"So what are your plans?" The knight asked encouragingly.

Charles looked up from the knife and met the elder's eyes. "That Three Crowns is restored to its rightful place."

Kevan's brow furrowed. "I think that will be nothing more than a dream. Robert will never grant you three crowns."

Who said anything about HIM granting it, Charles thought with contempt. But he kept silent.

When he opened his mouth, he changed the topic "I would also like to meet my other relatives. And visit the reach as well."

"What other relatives?" There was something in Kevan's tone that made Charles wonder if the knight questioned the importance of any other blood-related house.

But the relatives in question where Lannisters so Charles calmly responded "My uncles and my aunt in Kingslanding."

Kevan smiled kindly "There you can meet my son as well. Lancel. He is a squire to the king."

What a 'great honor' that must be, Charles thought to himself. "Yes, the king…" He wondered how that first meeting would play out. "Well he can not touch me anyway, I'm pardoned now."

"Well, he can get to anyone. He is the king."

Charles almost scoffed, of course, he knew that. "Yes, but it would provoke an equal outrage as if he mistreated any other noble."

"Robert is also the forgiving type. He has forgiven many people."

The young Svea raised his eyebrows. "WELL has he forgiven the Targaryens?"

"Never."

Charles gesticulated with his hand while stating "And as you said, he views me equal to Viserys."

"Yes, but he has no reason to harm you. He might just be a bit unfriendly. But who knows. You will see when you meet him." Kevan added reassuringly.

Charles looked at their barren plates and spoke "Well thank you for dining with me. You really shed some light on my past."

Kevan smiled and inclined his head. "You're welcome, see you around."

The knight stood up and walked off, leaving Charles sitting in his chair pondering.

"So I heard you handed in your essay." A voice called out, interrupting the Svea's thoughts.

Charles' eyes met Choren's hazel ones. The sworn sword pulled out a chair and settled.

"Indeed." It had taken all his assigned time, but he was content with his work.

Choren grabbed an apple on a tray while stating "Well that means tomorrow we are heading down for more mounted exercise."

Excitement replaced his melancholy mood. "This time I will unhorse you."

"Hah, well we will see about that." Choren took a huge bite of the apple. A smug expression spread across his thin face. "Maybe I will fall off so you will be happy."

Charles couldn't contain himself, and he released a volley of laughter. Soon Choren joined in, and they walked out of the dining hall in a fit of booming laughter.

The next morning they met up in the courtyard and made their way down to the usual spot. As the first charge commenced, Charles was immediately unhorsed by his opponent. The outcome of their endeavors did not change during the several days they practiced, and Charles found himself on the ground more times than he fancied. On the eighth day, Choren presented a set of armor. A gift from Lord Tywin.

It was a crimson layered breastplate, black pauldrons decorated with a proud golden lion and a gilded gorget with the Lannister sigil.

As the 9nth day arrives and the young Svea started to feel quite comfortable in his saddle. Then after a resting day, they rode back to the top. To Charles great surprise Tywin himself was there to greet them.

His grandfather's penetrating gaze viewed Charles steadily as he asked "Any improvements?"

"I believe so." Charles' hand motioned to the Sworn sword as he continued with a smirk "I managed to unhorse Ser Choren. And I feel I'm getting a handle on it."

"Good. Did you enjoy my armor?"

Charles felt a tiny bit of shame that Tywin had to mention it before he showed his gratitude. But he did not distress for long instead genuinely said "Very, it was a very gracious present. Thank you grandfather."

Tywin's voice turned a degree softer "Well if you are going to fight in a tourney one day better do it accurately. And a proper armor displays your status."

"Well, I thank you. It is very impressive."

The Lord of Casterly Rock made a curt nod "Well we shall talk privately. Follow me."

In the study, Tywin reached into one of his neat shelves and plucked out a heavy coin purse, Which he handed it to Charles.

"That is 500 gold dragons."

Charle studied it in aw as he felt the weight of the purse in his hands.

His grandfather viewed him with an amused look "I understand that you have no coin."

Charles could not help that feel that was the underlining message of 'I understand your House has no coin.'

"No…. not really."

"Therefore you can have these if you ever need them." His grandfather's voice was nonchalant, but Charles could feel the analyzing eyes studying his reaction.

"I.. you are very gracious. This will be enough for a long time. Although I will spend it diligently."

"Well don't play it away on games."

Charles met his grandfather's gaze; his voice was steadfast. "Never."

Tywin's featured relaxed, Charles' could have sworn that his grandfather was a little relieved by his statement.

"Then I have book for you. 'The history of House Lannister.' Some inspiration for you."

Charles put the coin purse on the table and felt the leather bound book.

"Are you in here as well?" Charles asked with a small wink.

His grandfather nodded, seeming to understand the implication "Yes. It is an updated version."

"Is my…" Charles swallowed "father in here?"

Tywin's eyes slightly narrowed "You will have to read for yourself." Then the sat down behind his desk.

"Have a pleasant time reading."

Immediately recognizing the cue, Charles inclined his head and said "I will" before making his exit.

He stored the purse and put the gift on the table by his bed, deciding that he would finish his War book before reading about the Lannister Legacy.

A week passed, and Charles tackled a new geography assignment of the rest the Kingdoms. He soon found himself in Tywin Lannister's office again after a timely summon.

"You will leave immediately with Ser Choren Brax. We have a pack of bandits who has dared to attack Lannister soil." The head of the Lannisters announced with contempt.

A surge of energy rushed through Charles. This was his chance to prove himself. But he kept his voice sober "They will be dealt with."

"Yes. Ser Choren is leading a small group to find them. According to a report, there are only four or five bandits."

Charles' hand clasped the sword hilt "Any specific instructions of what is to be done?"

"Kill them. You are under the command of Ser Choren."

"As you wish. It will be done."

Charles bowed and left with steady steps. After a short debriefing a party of ten guards, Choren and Charles rode out of The Rock.

"So these bandits stole goods from a wagon?"

The young knight slowed the pace of his horse to answer "Yes it was an ordinary peasant and his family who got attacked. He was heading to the market to sell his harvest. They slit his throat, raped his wife and cut his son in the leg. A small boy only eight years old, he will probably never be able to use that leg again. A cripple. We need to find these people, but that is the tough part. They can have traveled a long way already."

Charles felt a gust of wind in his untamed hair; they had arrived at the countryside. It was a refreshing change of scenery. The vast fields and the flowers growing by the roadside radiated tranquility. It was so open. The high grass rustled in the breeze and the sun warmed the skin. To think he had grown up in a tightly packed city without the option of escaping to this, even momentarily. Sometimes he wondered if he had been a noble or a prisoner. He looked down at the fine Lannister armor he was wearing and remembered the task at hand.

"Well, we should start with asking around the local farms and see if they know anything."

Choren moved some of his long hair out of his face before stating "True, but the tough part is…"

Charles finished the sentence "Finding them…." He thought for a moment before continuing "So what approach shall we have? The generous approach? The simple approach or a forceful approach?

"Well the commoners will probably tell us, they don't like raiders. It creates an unsafe environment for everyone. As I'm sure, you will agree?"

The young Svea shrugged "I do. But we should forget instances like the Kingswood Brotherhood when the commoners were in league with the criminals." His ancestor Gustavus Adolphus had been murdered by peasants that hid a band of outlaws. House Svea had been at its height in power. The success of the Carolean army in the third Blackfyre rebellion had made them infamous. Gustavus had even been appointed hand of the King to Aegon V, But he was stabbed in the back trying to keep the people's peace. Ironically even though his demise was unfortunate, he is the House member that has had the longest life to date. 'Hopefully, I will break that record.'

Choren looked skeptical "Yes, but these criminals attacked the commoners in the first place. We are out here to avenge them. They have not attacked us really."

"Then hopefully they will tell us all they know. " Choren could be right, but Charles would not exclude any possibilities until they knew more.

They stopped by the closest farm. It was simplistic with a windmill, stable and a house. A small girl sat leaning against the door entrance. Upon seeing them, she ran inside.

"Well this is a shitty place, doesn't look that nice." The guard named Lucien exclaimed.

Charles raised an eyebrow at the insensitive comment. But on second glance he realized that Lucien was right. The main structure was decaying; some parts were so rotten that they had fallen right off. The windmill had lost a wing which laid wasting in the mud, and the animal pen was empty. Why probably wasn't a mystery since there was a hole in the fence.

"Well.." He started to say as he absorbed the surroundings. "At least they are graced with life."

The father walked out with his wife who placed the child behind her. The young Svea and the Sworn sword dismounted and walked up to the man.

"I am ser Choren Brax Sworn sword to Tywin Lannister."

"And I am Charles the twelfth of house Svea, grandson to Lord Tywin."

The farmer was bald which combined with his beardless chin made the largeness of his nose stand out. He was also surprisingly fat considering his profession.

The man wiped his hands on the tunic "Why do we have this honor?"

Charles placed the arms behind his back "According to a report some bandits murdered one of your neighbors. Surely you have heard of it."

"Yes, we were there afterward, attending to the poor family. It's a shame." The farmer looked to his wife "But we believe that perhaps the bandits are from the Riverlands.

Choren crossed his arms "It's a long way for Riverland bandits to travel here just to attack farmers."

"Yes but would really Westerland people do this to each other?"

"There is scum everywhere," Charles said meaningfully.

The bald man shrugged "Perhaps you're right. But we don't know who these people are. It could be anyone. I hope though that you find them." He placed an arm around his spouse "I am feeling a bit unsafe when there could be an attack at the farm."

Charles' hand found Vasa's hilt. ''Understandable. But we will do everything in our power, trust us. They will be brought to justice."

"Thank you. Well, I can't tell you any more than that."

"We appreciate your assistance," Choren stated before they returned to the party.

As they climbed onto their horses, Charles asked his companion: "Do you think it's important from where they came?"

"They are probably from a nearby area."

"Obviously."

Choren reined in his horse then nodded towards the farm "Country people like to create rumors that bandits and such are from other places. It makes them feel like their neighbors could not attack them."

The sworn sword averted his attention to their company then spoke to Charles with a firm voice. "We will split up. You will lead five men to a farm two kilometers that way, and I will cover another to the east. We meet here in an hour or two.

"Sounds good."

The next farm he rode to was in better shape. When Charles knocked on the door, a short man with brown hair answered it.

"Hello, I'm Charles XII of house Svea, we are here looking for bandits that have attacked our good people.

The farmer scratched his beard "Yes I have heard the troubling news."

"But you have not seen anything?"

"No I.. haven't" his voice was hesitant. "I heard from my neighbors that there was an attack, but unfortunately I don't know where they came from. We... are a bit afraid, we have been on watch for people coming here. Fearing that they will attack us. I believe if they are in the area they would be in the forest." He lifted his hand and pointed behind Charles' head "You see over there on top of that hill. Quite large, So if they are hiding there, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack."

Charles turned and studied the treetops that rose above the high ground.

"A forest that close, and you have not seen anything?"

"No, I have been staying here. It's safer if they were coming."

The young Svea nodded absently, progressing the new information, which did not tell him all that much.

Charles politely smiled "Well thank you."

On the way to the meeting place, Charles met two children who shared the same story about the culprits lurking in the woods. Although one claimed that it wolves not bandits that were guilty.

"Any luck?" Charles sighed as he met up with Choren.

The other shook his head "No, you?"

"Not really."

Choren pointed to the north "You see the farm over there? we should go and talk there as well."

As they approached the house, a muscular man emerged from the door and walked down the steps to greet them. He was holding a butching knife which he was cleaning.

"Aa, Lord Tywin's men." He called out. His wife and child joined by his side as well.

"Indeed." Charles responded as he and Choren closed the distance to meet him.

Another man peeked his head out of the doorway. He looked young and had considerable blisters on his face.

"We are looking for the bandits that roam the area." The young Svea announced has his black boots came to a halt in the dry mud.

The brawny man gave out a small laugh. "What bandits? I have not heard about any bandits."

Charles turned and looked confused at Choren.

The sworn sword looked equally puzzled "Well there was an attack on a tradesman. Haven't you heard about it?"

"No.. this information has not got to me. Where was this attack?"

"Just a few kilometers away from here." Answered Choren

"Very close. Curious that no one has been around to tell you." Charles added perplexed.

The man scratched his ear with his clean hand "No I'm sure my neighbors would have told me if they knew. I don't think anyone knows about this attack."

"Do you have close contact with your neighbors?" Charles asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. We speak sometimes. But if anything of this magnitude would happen... I mean then surely we would discuss it, to keep each other safe."

"You would not have any knowledge where bandits potentially could be hiding?"

The farmer pondered for a moment "Well if there were an attack I'm sure they would be hiding in the forest. I know that bandits a few years ago hid there."

"Really? very well that will be all." Charles turned to Choren who nodded in agreement.

They returned to the rest of the group and started a trot forward, without really having a goal in mind.

"Curious." Charles sighed. He was very skeptical about the farmer's story. It was highly unlikely that he had not been informed.

"Alright, we need to discuss this. No one seems to know anything significant. They know about the attack but not who the bandits are."

"But not this one" Charles said and pointed behind him "Even though he is closer to the first farm than the other two we have visited. It is very strange. Almost as strange as if he were hiding the bandits. But it is a dimwitted way of avoiding attention. We should investigate if what he speaks is true."

"We should go and talk…" Choren began to say, but Charles interrupted him engulfed by his own thoughts.

"And talk with the other farms and see what they know about this fellow."

"Or we should go and talk with the woman whose family was attacked. The problem is that I don't know where they are."

Charles found it incredibly incompetent by them to not already have inquired about the victim's whereabouts.

"We should double back and speak with the other farms and ask where the family is and also inquire about this place as well. If there have been any quarrels which would justify that these people would support bandits."

The sworn sword nodded.

The young Svea halted and turned his horse to the side, blocking the rest of the company. "We should keep some men here. Maybe two people who can hide and keep an eye on this farm. So one can report back to us if anything suspicious happens and a spare that can continue to survey them."

Choren examined the party and then concurred "Yeah we will leave two behind."

As they started moving back to the first farm the sworn sword uttered "We need to tread carefully."

They return to the crumbling estate where the fat farmer worked the land. He wiped his forehead and leaned against the scythe.

"Welcome again." He called cheerfully.

"Well, we only wanted to know which farms that have been informed about the attack. Have you spoken to anyone?" Choren inquired.

"Yes, I went to the farms over there and there" He pointed at all the direction they had visited. "I think everyone knows; we have gone around telling people."

"Really" Charles calls out victoriously. Then he points directly at the farm with the supposed unknowing family "And what about that farm over there? You know these people?"

"Yeah, I'm good friends with them. Good people. We work together sometimes."

The last Svea crossed his arms "And they have not stirred trouble at any time?"

"No no, not at all."

Choren took a step forward "We only received word about the attack, but we have not found the actual family. Do you know where they are?"

The man shrugged "Well probably in their home. A few kilometers that way."

They ride off to the suggested direction. Charles cast an eye behind his shoulder to the sorry farm that was growing distant.

"Trust this man?"

"I don't know if we should leave two here as well." Choren pondered

"I think that is a good idea."

"Alright, we shall leave two then."

They soon reach their destination, and comparatively the farm was in the best shape so far. As soon as the party of eight come to a stop, a woman comes running out of the main house.

"Oh, it is the Lord's justice!"

Choren hoped of his mount and said with a sympathetic smile "We are here to help."

She invited them to her simple but elegant house for the inquisition.

"Sorry for your loss. We would like to ask some questions to aid our quest to find these horrible traitors." Charles said and bowed his head respectfully. He understood her grief.

With a pained voice, the woman started talking "Oh several bandits attacked us. They came all of a sudden. All of them wearing masks.

"How many?" The young Svea probed, perhaps a bit too quick.

"As I recall... four, perhaps five. I Don't know if I saw them all it happened so fast. They cut my poor boy..." Tears started to form in her eyes "We have nothing left. Now when my husband is gone who will plow the field when my son can't walk?"

"And your husband he wasn't disliked by people in the area?" The question leaned on the inconsiderate side, but Charles deemed it valuable information.

"Well, he had quarrels with some people. He was accused of many things these last two months." Her voice turned venomous "His harvest was far better than anyone else, and people disliked that. They accused him of stealing their animals! When in reality their animals just ran away in the night. Wolves came and scared them off." She paused "I believe It was our neighbors who attacked us."

Charles was starting to believe so as well. "Which neighbors were having problems with your husband?"

"I don't know them all, but most farms in the area disliked him. He got into a fight with one of them only two days ago."

"Do you know who?"

"Yes, Peter the ox he is called. He lives on a farm to the east. A nasty brute and his deformed boy is no better either."

"Excellent..." Charles whispered to himself. This was precisely the testimony he had been looking for. He knew that the beast of a man had been suspicious.

"Sir!" A voice cried from outside of the house which snapped the young Svea out of his triumph. He and Choren immediately bolted out the door.

A guard called "I saw someone. On that hill. He turned his back when he saw us and ran."

Charles quickly turned to Choren "We should pursue from two directions in case of an ambush! I will take 3 of the men and follow him straight on, while you take the other three and ride around so you can flank from another side if anything happens."

After a second of consideration, the sworn sword answered "Alright."

He motioned to the three closest soldiers to follow him, and they galloped on a path leading north. Charles and the remaining three guards raced up the hill west.

A man in ragged clothes armed with a spear in his left hand sprinted towards the edge of the forest. It was the same forest which supposedly hid bandits. Charles and his company of men shouted to the man to stop, but he continued onwards.

"Surround him!" Charles commanded. Hoping to halt the runaway before he entered the woods. Which they managed. He and the guards formed a diamond around the gruff man, blocking him on four different sides.

"Halt in the name of Tywin Lannister." Charles boomed and drew Vasa which glistered in the sunlight.

The man was filthy and had a stump for a right hand. He eyed the young Svea bewildered and spoke with a croaking voice.

"I'm only here hunting. Why have you chased me."

"Why did you run away you fucking idiot." Lucien exclaimed.

"Yeah, we screamed at you to stop." Another guard added.

"I did not hear I was so focused on hunting…" The man paused and hit his spear in the ground "hunting."

"Really and you did not hear us?" Charles asked in a mock voice.

"Don't you know it is a crime to hunt on the lord's land without permission?" The third guard stated.

"I'm hunting my own animals they ran away." Came the croaking response

"Which animals are that?" Charles demanded.

"Some cows."

"How many?"

"Four." The man answered with certainty.

"Which farm do you come from?"

The man pointed northeast.

"Why don't we go there and talk," Charles suggested with an incredibly smooth tone. But his body language conveyed that it was not a request.

"Well.. why would I do that?"

Lucien scoffed "Because you are being commanded. Drop that spear!" He pointed with his sword towards the one-handed man.

Choren emerged from his hiding place, and they escorted their suspect to his farm. He was placed on a stool in a corner. Lucien was the only guard placed inside the house. The others covered the exit. Choren began the interrogation.

"So, You said you were out hunting your cows. Do you really hunt cow?

The man nervously laughed "Well I am a bit confused; I had too much to drink yesterday. Hehe, you know."

Charles was the next one to talk. "What do you know about the attack? "

"I heard that someone had an unlucky encounter."

"Did you know this someone?"

"Yes, a poor farmer but a decent lad. One good friend of mine."

"Oh really?" Charles called out, the skepticism in his voice very clear. The thing that caught his attention most was that the man had called his friend 'poor.' When he undoubtedly had been the wealthiest farmer in the area. But when he was going to inquire about that specific detail, Choren cut in:

"Why did you turn and run from my men?"

"Well, I was actually out hunting. My own cows, that had disappeared. Thought I would swing by and offer my sympathies to my friend's wife. Then I saw you and thought you were busy, so I thought I would find my cows first."

Charles leaned closer to the suspect."The better question is: Why would you hunt your cows? Won't they recognize you?"

"Ah well yeah they do but you know there out...out running around, and I only want to find them. I need a weapon in case I was attacked by these bandits."

The young Svea jestfully nodded before continuing "So the weapon was for the bandits. Not hunting the cows. Because surely you would not want to kill your own livestock especially since they recognize you."

"Yes exactly, for protection. I always carry a spear with me."

"But you said that you were so focused on hunting the cows that the stampede of horses and shouting of men could not be heard, even though you had seen us only moments ago when walking to your 'friend's house.' Also considering that at the time you saw us you were more concerned in conveying your condolences then your 'Cow hunt.'

Choren crossed his arms "You see the pieces are not really matching. So either you tell us the truth, or we will bring you to the Lord's justice."

The suspect started to turn pale "I have not committed a crime yet you plan to execute me."

"We can cut off your other hand for lying to us." Choren simply stated.

"But I have not done anything!" The man cried.

But he was ignored by the Sworn sword which cut in "So either you tell us the truth or your hand will be gone."

The man caved under pressure and slowly spoke "If I tell you the truth will you allow me to live?"

"Of course." Charles rightfully remarked.

But Choren sounded less patient "Yes you will live."

"Well...I..I. I was on my way to… visit the wife and the son to see if they had seen any of the...any of the bandits. To see if they had recognized them."

"And why did you run?" Charles inquired.

"I thought maybe you were here to kill peasants, just because you suspected us."

The young Svea rolled his eyes "Oh yes, makes sense now that you were lying about hunting your own cows. Tell the truth why you went to the victim's house!"

"Alright alright! I know the bandits, and I was sent to silence! Silence! The woman and her child."

"Now we are getting somewhere, to save your life you will tell us where your friends are."

It wasn't surprising to hear Peter and his son being called out. But another name that surfaced was that of the short farmer Charles had visited on his own. It did surprise him to an extent; he had thought the slum farm a more likely source of jealousy and hatred.

The man desperately rubbed his stump "They forced me into this. I was a friend of his. But they told me that they would kill me unless I tried."

Charles eyed him with disgust "The wife of the victim told me that people believed that he had stolen their cows. Considering your hunting story, I'm pretty sure you are one of them."

"Well, I know for a fact that he stole my cows. Only four of them, but that was all I had!"

"Then It makes perfect sense that you view him as your friend doesn't it?"

The outlaw looked down at the floor, and Charles nodded to Choren signaling that they were done here.

"I think this is a clear witness. Now we know who did this." Choren assessed as they marched back to the horses.

"Then let's waste no time to give the bastards what they deserve."

Choren looked to be contemplating then he spoke deliberately "I fear for the life of the family. If he was there to silence them…."

Charles' eyes widened in fear "There could be others. Did we leave any guards…? No, we did not! Hurry."

They hastily mount and Choren shout "We leave two men here with him."

"Is that really wise? Should we not bring him with us?" The last thing Charles wanted was for them to lose their witness.

"Well we could, but they will come after us. We ride forward with three men, and the other will bring him with them."

They bolt back to the victim's house and run up to the door with swords drawn, Choren has also armed himself with a shield. But to their relief, it was peaceful inside, and the family still alive. Soon their captive with his escort caught up, and they dragged him into the building.

"Do you recognize this man?" Charles immediately asked.

The woman answered distressed "Yes he is a good friend to the family."

"Not as good as you would think. He came here to kill you."

The man whimpered at the Svea's exclamation "No I did not, they are lying to you."

"You said so yourself," Choren remarked matter-of-factly.

It was hard to understand the desperate voice with all the saliva in his mouth as he cried "I was only to silence them, but that does not mean kill them, just to make sure you did not know anything."

Charles lost his patience and pointed the thin edge of Vasa at the man as he roared "So you carried a spear with you just for show? Instead of apologizing you lie yet again! That is twice you lied to your lord's men. First cow hunting and now your own confession. This is surely enough for execution. We should do it immediately outside of the house."

"No, wait! How can you kill me he was trying to kill us!"

"Tell us the truth" Charles demanded. This was his last chance at salvation.

"I told you the truth!" The man cried frantically.

"Guards!" Choren boomed and the next thing Charles knew a guard entered and dragged the man outside.

"No!NO!NO!"

As soon as they were in the mud, the guard thrust his spear into the man's chest. He cried out but soon slumped down on the ground. Blood welling out of his mortal wound.

Charles looked in shock at the site. He had never seen death before; now he had caused it. He felt sick as the dead eyes viewed him desperately. Charles wondered if the right call had been made. He had hoped for another confession...

"We need to leave men here to guard the family. Or they will be dead within hours." Choren announced.

Charles took a deep breath and followed his friend to the mounts. There were more bandits to deal with.

"We should go and see if the guards we left behind have anything to report," Charles suggested.

"Well since they are guarding the guilty farms I'm sure we have them cornered."

They were soon viewing the simple estate of the short farmer.

Charles loosened the grip on the reins. "Now we shall continue the investigation."

"But we already know he is guilty right?"

Charles wasn't entirely certain. "It would not hurt to hear a confession."

"Yes, what can I do for you?" The farmer called out as they dismounted in front of his house.

Charles grabbed the sword hilt with his left hand "You have been accused of murder."

The man was stunned for a moment before retorting "By who? Who dare?"

"By your one-handed neighbor. How do you plea?"

"Well, he is known to be a madman. Drinking too much and living alone. His wife died a long time ago. He has no kind of credibility. Surely you don't believe it. I'm not guilty; I mean c'mon."

"We would like to search your house to make sure there is nothing suspicious."

Two guards immediately walked inside and started searching after Charles had spoken.

"We have nothing suspicious in our house." The short man tried to assure.

A few moments later a guard returned. "We found this ax."

"Yes, it is what I use for chopping wood." The farmer exclaimed.

"Well, it was hidden under the bed." The guard said while looking at Charles.

"Why would you hide an ax that you use for labor work?" The young Svea asked gleefully.

The farmer shrugged "I don't have much space in my house, it was not hidden, it is just space under my bed."

"Space under the bed" Charles repeated slowly and examined the buildings. There seemed to be plenty of space to store a tool.

"Well if I am attacked by bandits in the night, I can stretch under the bed and have a weapon."

"Well forgive me, my lord, we might excuse that. I do it sometimes my self." Lucien whispered in his ear. Charles supposed it made sense, but he felt a bit embarrassed to have reached a dead end. So he changed the approach.

"Now what were your relations with..." But he was interrupted by Choren.

"Charles, can we speak a moment?"

The young Svea looked from the bewildered farmer to Choren. Then he and Sworn sword walked off to the side.

"I think we should arrest him. He was pointed out, and we know the farms did not like the victim."

"But he claims our witness was a madman." Charles countered. He did not want to leave it to chance.

"Yes, but what we do know though is that the first farmer..."

"Told Peter. So someone is obviously lying. This man though we really don't have anything on him. We shall go and deal with the 'ox' and then come back here once we have solid proof.

On their way to the third farm, they visited they met up with the scouts they left behind. They reported that shortly after their watch started a scruffy looking man with one hand visited for a short while before leaving.

Peter 'the ox' was chopping wood bare-breasted as the two noblemen and six guards rode in and dismounted in unison.

"By the name of Tywin Lannister you are hereby under arrest. For killing and looting your fellow farmers." Charles loudly declared as he drew the valyrian blade.

Peter's strong muscles tensed "Excuse me but how dare you!"

Choren nodded to the others "Well Men, you know what to do."

What happened next Charles had not expected. The guard closest to Choren walked up to the chopping block and thrust a spear into Peter's bare stomach. He squealed and dropped the ax in his shock before knocking the block over as he fell. The guard continued onward and entered the house were the rest of the family was and beat the youngest boy to the floor. He then grabbed the startled young man with blisters by the neck, threw him forward and impaled him in back. Another guard grabbed Peter's wife and showed her into the corner. The first guard joined in, and the woman screamed and pleaded.

"So you did not want to ask any more questions?" A bewildered Charles exhaled.

"No, we don't need him for anything," Choren responded Indifferently.

The younger boy stood up and ran towards another room, but Lucien caught up and hauled him outside. "What should we do with the child?"

Choren looked at Charles then back to guard. "How old are you boy?"

"N..n..nine…"

Choren sighed and stood still for a moment, thinking quietly while looking around. "Well….His family is all gone."

"Maybe one of the other farm families would be willing to raise him. He is innocent in this!" Charles despairingly tried to reason.

"Yes.. he is only a boy. But Lord Tywin likes to send a clear message." Choren looked directly at Lucien and commanded firmly "Hang him."

Charles was horrified. He observed the dead father who laid in a pool of his own blood to the screaming child who was dragged past his sire's remains to a tree, only after the snap did the boy go silent.

A guard dragged the lifeless body of the young man with blisters out. Then the woman inside the house was slain as well.

"Should we... bring the dead body with us to scare the other into submission?" Charles managed to vocalize.

"No. We will nail them against the outer wall." Choren responded while inspecting the dead.

The whole family was fixed to the wooden structure in a line. First the father, then his oldest son, then the boy and last the wife.

Charles felt incredibly perplexed, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He couldn't look away either. He was part of this, and he had to accept that fact. There was no use being a craven telling himself that he is innocent in this.

"This will send a clear message of what happens when farmers go rogue."

"I'm sure it will…shall we do the same with the other?"

Choren simply nodded.

When they returned to the short man's house, he stood guarding the doorway armed with his ax.

"Don't come into the house!"

Choren grabbed his shield, drew the sword and started advancing alone towards the door. Charles unsheathed Vasa and followed to help. The farmer cleaved with all his strength as soon as his opponent came in range. Choren easily parried the strike to the side with his shield and instantly slashed the man's stomach open. The boy inside the house screamed "No, no. Father!" and the farmer's wife yelled "No you bastards!" before trying to tackle Choren. But the sworn sword used the shield to knock her. The boy picked up his father's ax and ran up to attack Charles. The young Svea blocked the blow and disarmed the boy before kicking him to the floor.

"Bring them outside. Then behead them." Charles commanded with a heavy heart. He wanted to spare them further pain, especially the woman. Beheading was usually more merciful.

Once it was done Charles grimly order "Put their heads on spikes."

"This will send a clear message." Choren said knowingly.

He then continued "We have two empty farms now. Perhaps we should give the widow some help. They will die without an income."

"But she also needs someone to take care of the farm. Perhaps a soldier who would like to retire and settle down." Charles suggested, glad to focus on the reason for all the bloodshed.

"I will discuss the matter at Casterly Rock. But we will find a new husband and as an honorable gesture, gift the lands of her neighbors."

"Criminals are severely dealt with, but the lawfull population is cared for." This made Charles feel a bit better. But it was nothing compared to how the widow felt. She overloaded them with grateful remarks when they broke the news to her. Then just like that their mission was done and they headed back to the Rock.

"This was an adventure." Choren positively remarked

"Indeed, but no glorious battle or skirmish." Only merciless slaughter of the defenseless. Just or not. Though, Charles wondered if a battle felt any different.

"Have you ever killed someone, Charles?" Choren asked as they established eye contact.

"No…"

"I Wonder when that will happen then. It's getting late, and there are at least three more hours to Casterly rock."

They made camp in the countryside, and Charles wondered when he would take his first life. Would it feel as horrible as seeing that poor child being executed? He hoped not. But he was a Svea, and their trade was warfare.

AN: Well the chapters keep getting longer and longer. It is not really my intention; my goal is around 5000 words per chapter. But the story must dictate the length. This is also the most eventful chapter so far, and undoubtedly the most brutal. The end was hard to write, but it was necessary. Realism must be kept, and Tywin is not known for his mercy. I had a Kingdome come deliverance Vibe writing this chapter, tell me if you agree. Feel free to leave a review.


	8. Chapter 7

They had journeyed back first thing in the morning. It had only been a few hours ride from their campsite to the Rock, so Ser Choren and the twelfth field marshal soon stood before the liege lord of the Westerlands in his orderly solar.

"My lord, we have taken care of the problem." The Sworn sword announced in a bow. He then added dutifully "A few peasants were executed for their crimes."

Tywin eyed his subject approvingly "Good. Now leave us."

As Choren made his exit, Tywin rested his arms on his chair and viewed his grandson considerately.

"How was your first mission?"

Charles grabbed his scabbard and moved it out of the way as he lowered himself unto his usual seat. Then he answered thoughtfully.

"Well, it was…" 'bloody' he thought. "No real skirmish..." 'Only butchery of helpless farmers. Guilty though, guilty farmers.' Charles then eyed his grandfather determined "The job was done, and that is all that matter."

"Hm, I see." Tywin responded in a distant low tone. He seemed to be pondering and continued after a small pause "How is your education fairing?"

"Well, the Geography assignment is complete hopefully it is to Maester Creylen's liking."

His grandfather nodded curtly and announced as soon as Charles finished speaking "Today you will butcher a Chicken. It is time."

'It is time to bloody your hands' Charles decyphered. He wondered if Tywin knew how close he had been to take a life already.

"Right, Very well."

"The gardener is waiting outside. He will guide you through the procedure."

Charles stood up and walked towards the door. But he turned back around and asked curiously.

"Do you go hunting grandfather?"

The response made the young man disappointed. "No." Tywin then continued plainly "A few of my men do." The lord's intense eyes studied his grandson. He raised his eyebrows "Do you want to go and hunt?"

"It would be interesting yes."

Tywin nodded looking at a stack of papers and then viewed the same eyes on his grandson "I will see if I can have anything arranged."

"Thank you." On that Charles left. He met up with the gardener who showed him how to butcher a chicken most effectively. Then how to skin it and remove the bone. After cleaning his hands, the young Svea brought the meat to the kitchen where the chef guided him in the steps to cook it. After spending the entire day, Charles could finally feast on the meat.

A fortnight passed. The young Svea had finished the war book and started with the writing of the Lannister legacy. He had also written a letter to Myron and thanked him for all his teachings, saying that it was going excellent for him in Westeros. He also composed a letter to Mace Tyrell and Garth. Which contained customary pleasantries and that he looked forward to visiting the Reach. Only a few days later a letter was handed to him by a Servant which read: "My dear boy. I'm on my way to visit you. Its been too long since we last saw each other. Signed by Garth Tyrell". The announcement made Charles overjoyed.

It became September and Charles was sent out for another ten days of mounted practice. After spending more time with the horse, Charles felt that he started growing skilled in commanding it suitably. He had also become adept in mounted combat and fighting people on the ground while mounted.

The master at arms drilled him pretty hard in single combat. Ser Benedict Broom was a competent teacher, so Charles learned some methods to utilize his speed in defense as well. He had to exercise fitness regularly, running for half an hour every day around the courtyard. The latter days he was tasked with running up and down the stairs or sprint outside of the rock. Charles had never had a perfect fitness before so he found the first weeks very tiring.

After a particularly exhausting evening, Tywin entered Charles room as he read the Lannister volume.

"Oh, Grandfather." The young Svea called out surprised and closed the book. Tywin had never visited his room.

"Enjoying your stay?" The Lord asked in his usual plain tone.

"Of course, how could anyone complain? Proper education, excellent food, and family."

Tywin looked satisfied and spoke "I Have a present for you."

Charles rose from the bed and looked to his grandfather with peaked interest. Tywin stood as motionless as ever and continued to speak "In the stables is a fine horse that I have bought for you."

"Thank you, grandfather! My own mount, I will go immediately."

Tywin gave a quick approving nod before saying. "When you are down there you can stay as well. Tomorrow Garth will arrive."

A curve spread out through the young man's features. "Great, then I will escort him up here."

"Yes, he can take the elevator."

In the stables at the bottom level, a white stallion was presented to him. It looked majestic a and seemed to be in good shape. Charles took it for a test ride outside. Charles bonded with the roan and was able to command it without a problem. He named the horse Blazeclipper after his ancestor Charles IX:s steed which he led the Caroleans into battle with.

The following day Garth arrived. The young Svea went to greet his great-grandfather at the gate. Garth was a frail man but had managed to keep most of his fat on his body despite his age. He had always worn lovely garments even in Braavos, and now it was no different. The green silk cape and the extravagant tunic was a real contrast to the formal armor his guards were wearing.

"My Boy!" Garth cried out happily. His face turning into globe as he smiled beneath his long white beard.

"Grandfather!" Charles embraced him. Feeling Garth's soft auburn grey hair which extended down his back.

They released from the embrace, and the elder man put both his hands on Charles' shoulders and studied him up and down. It seemed a somewhat awkward position for Garth since he was significantly shorter than him, his arms were stretched upwards.

Garth laughed. "I remember a time when holding you like this was less tiring. How have you been doing these past months?" The old man sounded almost guilty as he spoke the last words.

"It's been excellent," Charles assured him. He did not fault his great-grandfather for moving to Westeros a few months earlier than him. Myron had been excellent company.

Garth let his arms return to the comfort of his sides. "It's almost a year since I last saw you."

Charles put a hand on Garth and started to walk while saying "Tell me about the reach. How has your time been?"

"Oh, it's been good. It feels better to be home in Westeros. Even if I miss our late night talks."

Charles concurred nostalgically "It was very cozy in Braavos. But this! Westeros is what I have always wanted."

The elder man looked at him knowingly but did not say anything.

"Well let's not keep my grandfather waiting, We are going to take the elevator," Charles exclaimed enthusiastically.

Garth had his guards stay at the bottom; then he slowly followed Charles onto the first platform. As it started to move upwards, Garth carefully sat down on to a crate.

"So your journey here was good?" Charles inquired after seeing his great-grandfather had a comfortable seat with something to rest his back on.

"Yes, but you know it takes time to travel. I took a boat to Lannisport. Stayed there over the night then took my little chariot to the rock."

"How has your year in Westeros otherwise been?"

"Ah boring. I'm an old man; I don't do much, my legs are starting to fail me. But I have been in the company of Olenna." Garth paused and sighed a bit amused. "She is a tough woman."

Charles took a seat beside his great-grandfather. "So you have told me. And she has not changed?"

"No. She likes to mock me. But I'm used to it. She does it in good heart." The elder man looked at him meaningly. "She wants to meet you one day."

"As do I and the rest of the family."

Garth closed his eyes as if remembering something and then chuckled.

"Mace has been asking a lot of questions about you. He is eager to meet you, but he couldn't come here."

Charles felt a warmth spread inside him. "I understand, but I will go to Highgarden once I'm finished with the training. But I will probably pass by King's Landing first."

"Ah sure. Well, there is no hurry." Garth exhaled.

After they reached the top, Garth was shown to his guest quarters for some refreshments. Once he felt ready, he was invited to dine in the council room.

Soon enough Charles found himself between his two grandfathers. They were joined by the Lannister core consisting of Kevan and Damion.

"How was your trip?" Tywin asked drily.

Garth wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and joyously answered "Oh it was a great trip! It was actually my first time in Lannisport, and here in Casterly rock. And I must say it is an awe-inspiring site you have here." He then added considerately: "Highgarden is more beautiful. But this is one of the wonders of the world I would say."

Damion concurred politely "Yes it truly is a fascinating site. Every time I see it when I go home I am still surprised."

"Can't get enough of it," Charles added agreeing.

Tywin sipped his wine, but Kevan nodded.

"Although sometimes I wonder if it's just a bit too big for its own good." Charles said thoughtfully.

"Chicken M'lord" A servant announced and the food was served. They started eating in silence. Then Tywin spoke.

"How is Mace?"

"Ah, he is fine. He is in excellent spirit." Garth motioned to the youth on his left. "He hopes maybe Charles will visit."

"So, I see" Tywin spoke uninterestingly after swallowing.

Charles spoke up "Well that can be arranged in time hopefully. Everything is proceeding excellently at the moment. If one can claim such a thing."

"So I have heard." Kevan responded kindly.

The conversation died again. "So...have you met before Grandfather?" Charles politely asked. He then said more amused "Grandfathers?"

"No, we have never met." Was Tywin's brief response.

"Then this is the first. Toast to that." Charles exclaimed in a lighter tone trying to lift the spirit. And thankfully everyone toasted with moderate energy.

The following day Charles heads to the maester's tower after sharing breakfast with Garth and Choren.

Maester Creylen was writing as Charles entered. He put the quill to the side and greeted his young pupil 'Morning' with unique content.

"Morning Creylen."

"Charles how are you doing?" the maester inquired as he motioned for Charles to have a seat.

"With my great grandfather here, it is wonderful." Charles rested his elbows on the table and looked to Creylen expectantly. Ready for the next assignment.

The maester smirked. "I feel that your studies are near completion. I feel that I don't have much more to teach you."

"Really?" The young man asked proudly.

Creylen waved his hand nonchalantly as he often did "There are always things you can learn, but for what Tywin wanted me to teach I'm pretty much done."

Charles excitedly stood up and extended a hand to the older man "Thank you for everything."

Creylen smiled and took it. "Well, you are a very good student."

"And you an excellent tutor." They shook hands, and Charles left the tower with a feeling of blissful resolution. Unsurprisingly Tywin summoned him to his study shortly after and Charles decided to use the opportunity to return the book of the Lannister Legacy.

The lord of Castely Rock viewed the item in Charles' hand as he entered the office.

"Are you done with the book?"

"Indeed. Fascinating read. There is a lot to take inspiration from."

Tywin seemed pleased enough by his grandson's statement, so Charles asked more relaxed "Do you want it back?"

"Sure, put it on the shelf."

After the young Svea had obliged Tywin motioned to the opposite chair.

"Sit."

Charles obeyed without hesitation but lowered himself to the seat comfortably without hurrying as he often did.

"So do you feel like you have learned anything here?" Tywin asked in his usual monotone voice.

"Of course, I feel much more enlightened than when I arrived. It's been an excellent opportunity. I can not thank you enough Grandfather."

Tywin registered the gratitude for a moment; then he immediately went to the matter at hand. "My sister Genna is arriving today. She has been at the Twins on Walder Frey latest wedding."

"Which is not an unusual thing as I have gathered." Charles quipped.

"No. Well, I want you to meet her."

"It would be my pleasure."

So Charles went down a second time in the same week to escort a new guest to the top. Genna Lannister was pleasant company, but most of their conversation were courtesies. Charles told her of his prior life in Braavos, and his stay at the Rock and Genna talked of her time at the Twins. When they reached the courtyard, Lady Genna excused herself and went to greet her Lord brother.

The next day Charles invited Garth for a small tour of the Rock. They had a wonderful time reminiscent of their stay in Braavos, but due to his great-grandfathers age, their pace was incredibly slow. They only covered a few of the noteworthy places before it started getting dark and Garth felt he needed to rest. They headed back to Garth's room and sat down on the bed together.

"How long are you going to stay here at the Rock?" To elder man asked.

Charles leaned against the wall and placed his hands behind his head. He felt the golden buttons of his blue coat stretching as he made himself comfortable. "I will have to speak to my lord grandfather. But, I could join you on your journey back to the Reach."

"If you want to you are very welcome. I could use a good traveling comrade." Garth then bumped Charles exposed ribs.

"I'm sure you would." The young man said in a laugh as his body budged in response to the nudge. "And from there I can travel to King's Landing." Charles then looked to Garth sincerely "But I owe a lot to Lord Tywin, so I will discuss it with him before making any decisions." Charles even wondered if it was his choice.

Garth sighed as he also leaned against the stone surface. "I'm thinking about traveling back in two days time."

Charles thought for a moment and decided to talk about the matter with Tywin on the morrow. They moved on to another subject and conversated for the duration of the evening.

"Has Lord Tywin given any orders not to be disturbed?" Charles asked the posted guard the following day.

The man shook his head, and Charles decided to knock before entering the office.

"Do you have time?" he inquired carefully after closing the door.

Tywin looked up from his work and answered plainly. "Yes"

Charles drew a breath before speaking "I've been wondering. If maybe I can join Garth on his way back to the Reach and stay there a short while before Travelling to King's Landing."

Tywin narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at him in silence for a short while before stating "Are you sure that you don't want to go to King's Landing first?"

The weight of Tywin's stare started getting Charles nervous "I have been thinking about that. But since there already is a ship bound for the Reach maybe it is most effective to ….hop by it first and then Travell to King's Landing." Then Charles hastily added to be on safe side "Of course I can go to Kings Landing first if you think that is a preferable course of action."

The Lord of Casterly Rock's gaze did not budge, and he calmly spoke "I leave that up to you. But the rest of your family is in King's Landing. I thought you wanted to visit them?"

"I do, and I plan to have a longer visit there."

Tywin did not respond and was utterly silent just studying Charles. Several seconds went by, and Charles felt the weight of the room on his shoulder, and he surrendered.

"You are right of course. I have to meet my whole family first. It would not be proper if I did not."

"Good." Tywin stated curtly before inquiring "Are you eager to go away?"

"Not eager, of course not." Charles almost stammered in response. But he did indeed feel the urge to explore more of Westeros. But he stated more reasonably "I have not been here for that long of a time aftera….

Tywin cut him off "You leave in two days time. I will have Ser Choren escort you."

Charles blinked surprised then composed himself. "Thank you."

He turned to leave when Tywin said:

"We will have dinner tomorrow. There we can discuss it in more detail."

Charles turned his head. "Yes."

Out in the courtyard, a laughing Martyn ran past Charles; a servant chased him. The young Svea smiled at the view and then took a look around admiring the place which had been his home for these months. He started walking back to his room when two guards approached him.

"My lord." Alar called out respectfully.

"Ah if it isn't Gared and Alar" Charles spoke with a grin.

"How are you doing?" Gared inquired as he adjusted his helmet.

"Fine, but in two days time, I will not grace you with my presence anymore. Not for a while at least."

Gared looked disappointed "Why not?"

"I'm traveling to King's landing."

"What. What a shame. You were such a good spirit here." The guard said with a sigh.

"Oh, I will return trust me on that." The young Svea stated merrily.

"Unless you become the king in King's Landing." The donkey laughter erupted from Gared and Charles joined in on the banter.

"What he laughed at a joke did you hear?" Gared poked Alar in the side "Did you hear?"

"Oh stop it you pestilence." Alar exclaimed and pushed the other away.

Charles shook his head "Gared if that becomes the case I will make you my Kingsguard."

"Ohh Thankyou." Gared jokingly bowed.

"Well, I would hate to keep your patrol waiting." The young Svea inclined his head to the two of them.

"Good luck to you." Alar said before the two guards continued on their way.

From behind him, Charles could faintly hear Gared say to Alar "He is such a nice lad." Which only widened Charles' smile. The young Svea took a break for the remainder of the day and had his last dinner with Garth before he left. It was hard to break the news that he would not join him to the Reach. But Garth took it well enough, and Charles ensured him that he would visit in the close future.

"I hope so." Garth said in a sigh "Mace is very eager to meet you."

"Send him my best regards."

"I will." They had a long embrace.

The following evening he dined with Tywin. His grandfather served him very lavish food and Charles enjoyed the talk they were having. The head of house Lannister was explaining the situation in King's Landing. Something he did with more enthusiasm than he bestowed on other things.

"Jaime is a Kingsguard, Cersei is the queen and Tyrion is a drunken fool."

"Interesting positions," Charles responded although he decided not to pry on Tywin's opinion of his youngest son. "And if Cersei is queen I guess Robert will be in his best behavior?" Charles continued. Wondering how the King would react upon seeing him.

"Presumably. Your cousins Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella, will probably be happy to meet you.

"Well since they are my cousins, I'm thrilled to meet them. And how are they?"

Tywin pondered for a moment "I have not been to King's Landing for many years, but they visited me once. A few years ago."

Charles looked forward to meeting the extension of his family. There were a lot of other interesting people at the capitol as well. "And Jon Arryn is Hand of the King?"

"Indeed."

"As long as the Hand knows what he is doing the King can be a fool." Charles stated thinking about how Tywin had ruled the realm successfully despite Aerys I.

Tywin's answer was short, but his tone was agreeing. "Yes."

"If there is a tournament, which I have heard that Robert is so enthusiastic about throwing. I hope to bring some prestige to the house."

His grandfather almost sounded reluctant "So do I. Robert is indeed fond of tournaments "

"Any advice for your grandson going to King's Landing?"

His grandfather viewed him intently "Be careful who you talk to. King's Landing is full of liars and conspirators."

"But I can trust the family?"

"Yes. Tyrion is a drunken fool, dissipated most of the time, far from impressive. Jaime is a glorified bodyguard to the King and Cersei is the Queen. But yes. You can trust them."

"Then there is Lancel who is the king's squire."

"Yes?"

"Well, that is all the family members in King's Landing." Charles added innocently.

"No, the King has two Lannister squires."

"Really? Who is the other one?" The young Svea had no idea of who the other could be.

"Tyrrek Lannister."

"Your other brother's son?" Charles puzzled together.

Tywin made a curt nod "Tygget's son. Interesting enough."

Charles looked at their empty plates and spoke sincerely. "Well, grandfather, I have to thank you again for my stay here and what you have offered me. In both education and support. I will not forget it."

"Good."


	9. Chapter 8

Charles and Choren accompanied by four guards traveled for twenty days towards the capital. The trip was pleasant, and Charles built a good relationship with the four accompanying guards. The sworn sword and the young Svea indulged in their usual banter, and when they camped, they usually dueled for an hour. When the opportunity arrived, the party stopped at an inn and had a few well deserved beers. Charles found the five occasion they did this too few, but he was indeed excited to arrive as well.

The last travelling hours Charles tried spy the silhouette of Three Crowns in the distance. To no success. He shared his thoughts with Ser Choren who explained that it was impossible. The ancestral home of the Svea was situated close to the King's road and not the Gold road which they were travelling on. Charles thought they could perhaps make a detour anyway. But, he knew that there would be time for Three Crowns soon enough.

They arrived at the gates of the capital three hours later. King's Landing was a vast city. The immense stench was baffling but not entirely surprising since the fume could already be felt from the road. The wind had blown in that direction. It smelled terrible as they entered the city and large numbers of people crowded the street.

Even though The Rock was huge and inspiring, Charles found the Red keep the most magnificent structure he had ever laid eyes on.The regal look of the tall, thin towers and the elevated main hall made the young man want to stop in his tracks and simply marvel at the site. The keep was also more glorious for what it represented for Charles. 'This is the Svea Lineage.' He mused that he, like so many other field marshals, had ridden towards the castle.

The pockets of traveling space scarcened as they moved closer to the Keep's first bailey. To the Svea's annoyance, a roaming cow blocked their way momentarily. With the cackling of chickens in his ears, Charles observed a boy run past an armored man that rode through the street. The child started pushing the cow to clear the way calling "Come on Dory, move!"

Golden armored soldiers could be spotted on the watchtowers as they passed through the first gatehouse of the Red Keep. Choren and Charles dismounted, and their escort followed suit before taking the horses to the stables. Two Lannister men stood posted at the entrance to the Keep. Choren walked up to them and introduces himself and his party. One of them viewed Charles and nodded before stepping inside to give the news of their arrival.

"How do you feel?" The dashing knight inquired to his comrade curiously.

"I don't know. It will be nice to meet the rest of the family, but I don't really look forward to meeting the King. But, it will be interesting." Charles felt the red stone of the wall with the palm of his hand. "Although, it's good to be where my roots come from."

They waited a while before a cheerful voice cried out. "Isn't it Charles!"

A Dwarf waddled out to greet them. He was dressed in beautiful crimson garbs, but his facial features looked not too pleasing to the eye. However, a smile still curved up the young Svea's lips.

"Isn't it Uncle Tyrion!"

"Welcome to King's Landing."

"Thank you."

"How faired your trip?" The dwarf asked with an honest smile.

"It was exceptional, and I had decent company as well." Charles grinned and looked to Choren. The sworn Sword's gaze shifted from Tyrion to Charles and then delivered an uncomfortable chuckle.

"Yeah."

The young Svea released a heartfelt laugh at his friend's unusual uncertainty, which Tyrion shared. Choren slowly cracked as well.

"Could we come in?" Charles asked merrily.

"Yes sure. Follow me."

They strolled into the Castle behind their waddling guide. Tyrion did not seem to have his father's respect, but Charles would never forget that his uncle was the only Lannister who had held any contact with him in Braavos. "It has been some time since the letter I received from you."

"Yes." The dwarf answered simply.

"It's nice to meet you in person finally."

Tyrion did not respond so Charles jokingly stated, "So you are the one your father calls a drunk fool ey?"

Nonchalantly Tyrion answered, "My father takes an enormous pride in his last born son, even in my absence he seems to share tales of my greatness."

Charles started to regret his last statement figuring it probably wasn't such a pleasant subject for his uncle. Showcasing he had not made any biased conclusions the young Svea added: "But he is not the most joyous fellow though."

"No…." There was underlying darkness in his voice.

Tyrion was going to continue speaking, but Charles knowingly stated "He has his disappointments… My father was one of them."

"So am I. I am his biggest disappointment ever." Tyrion proclaimed aloud in a matter of factly tone as if it meant nothing. He then continued more orderly "Anyways; I must warn you the situation in King's Landing is a bit tense. The Hand of the King has fallen very ill and lay in his chambers."

This Charles had not expected. "Are we talking seriously sick?"

"He has gotten worse and worse since the last days."

"Maybe a bad time to visit." Charles said more to himself.

"Well, Pycelle says...who is the Grand maester, that perhaps he will get better."

"We can hope so. Jon Arryn is a good hand of the King is he not?"

"Yes." Tyrion answered curtly and then resumed seriously "Well it is taking its toll. Robert sees him as his second father or even as his father. Which makes his grace a bit tensed. My sister is also on edge. But she is always tense so I suppose it does not make a big difference."

The rustling of armor could be heard, and around the corner, a handsome man with long blonde hair appeared. He came walking down the corridor towards them, making the crown symbol of the Kingsguard evident on his golden armor. The white cape was whisking about in his stroll.

"Ah, my dear brother." The man spoke with a self-certain smooth voice.

He stopped in his track and watched them continue their pace towards him in a boyish grin.

"Well met Ser Jaime. I am Charles."

Jaime studied his nephew for a moment. Like a master of arms analyzing a recruit.

"So I have been told." He spoke as he redirected his view from Vasa to Charle's green eyes.

Jaime to took a step forward and inquired with a nonchalant smile "And you already know who I am."

Charles returned the smug expression "That white cloak of yours is recognizable, and the Lannister traits are very evident. But to be honest, the 'Brother' thing gave it away.

Jaime cracked up into a cocky smirk, but he seemed amused by Charles quip.

"Tyrion, have you welcomed our new guest?"

"Indeed I have, dear brother." The dwarf spoke as he walked up beside the knight.

Jaime viewed his two relatives. "Well, now we are almost having a family reunion here. It is only Cersei that we miss."

"And Where is her grace?" Asked the youngest member.

Jaime shrugged "She is probably in the Red Keep. She has been informed of your arrival. But this is a big place. It takes time to travel through the halls."

Charles hmmed. The Kingsguard looked his nephew down to up and then gave an accepting look. Jaime then motioned down the hall from where he came.

"Do you want to see the Throne room?"

Charles' eyes flashed in excitement, but he spoke calmly. "Of course. The famous Iron Throne."

Jaime then led them further into the castle. He and Charles walked in the front while Tyrion and Ser Choren followed close behind. In the back of his ear, the young Svea heard Tyrion politely ask the sworn sword. "So Ser Choren how have your travels been?" Before the two of them indulged in small talk.

They soon round a corner before arriving at an ample open space. Two guards with crowned stag emblems stood by a large double door. The Baratheon men opened the wooden gate, and Charles walked into the great Throne Room.

He felt chills as he took in the site "I have to say it is not disappointing. Yet it is incredibly daunting while it is epic. Although, I suppose that is the beauty of it. A big mess of swords."

They all gaze at it for a moment.

"I wonder how it is to sit on it…" Charles breathed in longing.

Jaime sighed "I sat on it. It is an ugly thing. No comfort in it."

"Some Targaryen Kings actually cut themselves on the throne" Tyrion added factly.

The Kingsguard glanced to his brother meaningly "Aerys used to do that."

"Really? Increasing his madness, I presume." Charles stated ruefully. Thanks to Aerys his house had collapsed.

"Yes…." Jaime breathed out with a hollow voice.

Tyrion then waddled in front of the group and turned to his nephew.

"I will talk to the servants and make sure you have quarters to stay in."

"Thank you. We should all dine tonight as a great family reunion."

As on cue to his cheerful announcement, a stunningly beautiful woman emerged from a hallway to the left behind the throne. Her green eyes gleamed with confidence and her long blonde hair danced as she skidded in her elegant red gown towards them. The two accompanying Lannister guards halted with her before Charles. Her thin lips curled into a smile, making her fine cheekbones cutely rounded.

"Ah, Charles." She sweetly remarked and extended her arms out from the long sleeves of her gown to give him a small embrace.

Almost dumbstruck Charles felt unable to respond to her body as she briefly were in his arms. Once she had taken a step back, the young Svea swallowed nervously before saying "Aunt Cersei." he then quickly bowed and added "Your grace."

"So good to see you." Cersei declared self-righteously while beaming.

"A real pleasure." The young man hastily replied.

"My father wrote to me about your arrival and that you have been fairing good in your exams."

Hearing her speak of his accomplishments, even little as they were made him feel good.

"Indeed your grace. And I am most grateful for my grandfather's support. And I hope I will be able to repay our family in the future."

Satisfaction flashed in her emerald eyes. "I am happy to hear that. Now If you excuse me, I have to speak to my brother."

She looked to Jaime commandingly, and he nodded smirking.

"Of course." Charles politely inclined his head and watched the twins head back from where the queen had appeared.

Tyrion showed Charles to his quarters which were situated close to the corridor where he had met up with Jaime. His uncle then left to guide Choren. After settling the young Svea went to explore the castle on his own. The Rock had been mostly a mountain, so this was technically the first castle he had been to. Well, he supposed that as an infant he had hidden in Three Crowns, but that did not count.

The corridors weren't too boastful, most of them were empty except for decorative torches on the wall and pillars. There was a painting to be spotted every now and then, something which the rock had undoubtedly lacked. Most doors he walked past were locked, but after some strolling, he saw an open archway. He fastened his pace and entered it, immediately feeling the soft breeze upon his skin. Before his gaze laid a beautiful garden. He wondered how big it was since he could not see the end of it.

"Lord Charles." A smooth voice said behind him. Charles quickly spun around startled. His hand was at the hilt of the sword. Before him stood a bald fat man in a flowery robe.

"And I have the pleasure of meeting?" Charles spoke with conjured up politeness. The man's sudden presence put him a bit on edge. Although the stranger smelled surprisingly pleasant.

The man's hands slid out from the hiding place as the sleeves of his robe parted. "I am Varys. Also called the Spider by some people. I am a member of the small council." Varys clasped his hand together and spoke in a silken tone as he took a step forward.

"You are very welcome to our dear capital. The City has been made brighter by your presence."

Charles arched an uneasy brow. "You flatter me too much my Lord. But if you ask the King, I actually think my presence has darkened the place."

"Well, It was too many years ago since the last Svea was here."

To that, he could not disagree. "Indeed."

"It is a welcome sight to see one of your blood still standing."

"The feeling is very mutual my lord."

Varys fastly inquired after his remark "And how has your travel been?"

"Very good." Then Charles spoke a bit slower after coming to a realization "But how did you know I was in the gardens?"

Varys smiled widely "Oh I know everything. That's my job you see. Listening to the whispers."

"Ah, hence 'the Spider'." Charles added with a hand gesture. Not feeling too relieved by that statement.

"Yes. I am after all the Master of Whispers."

"Then I bet you know all about my experience in Casterly Rock." Charles voiced. He wanted to know if his stay really had been something noteworthy.

Varys giggled "The birds sing from the West yes. I've heard you have become a great tourney fighter. At least in practice."

Charles did not know if he should be flattered or scared that this 'Spider' knew these things of him. But he would hardly style himself great after unhorsing Ser Choren once.

"Hopefully I will be able to learn more and use my skills to win a tourney."

"I'm sure you will. Have you met your family?"

"Ah yes. It is has been a great pleasure. I have not met my cousins though."

Varys cocked his head "Oh the princes and princess?"

"Indeed."

"I'm sure you will soon."

"King's Landing is…."

A raspy voice cut the Svea off "Well well look whom we have here."

Both Charles and Varys turned and the biggest contrast of a man to the 'Spider' approached. He was thin, styled with a pointy mustache and beard. His age was easier to deduced with the grey in his very existing brown hair.

"Lord Baelish." Varys spoke softly in a small bow. He seemed unaffected by the sudden intrusion.

The other bowed as well with a sly smile. However, it was directed towards the younger man. "Charles."

"Baelish…?" The young Svea tried to deduce from where he had heard that name before.

"I am Petyr Baelish. Lord of..." he began to speak, but Charles triumphantly cut in "The fingers."

"Yes. you know your geography." Petyr spoke impressed.

Charles nodded satisfied. "Great pleasure."

"I am the Master of Coin here in King's Landing."

The young Svea looked from Varys to Petyr "So here we have both the Master of Coin and the Master of Whispers. What a great coincidence. Or do you usually take a stroll here in the gardens?"

"Oh, I only came here to find you." Varys uttered softly.

There was a certain bluntness in the Lord's voice which highly contrasted his colleague. "Yes, and my friend Varys was so kind as to inform me of your arrival. And of course, I wanted to find time to meet you in person. After All your house is very famous, even today. Also I knew Victoria very well."

Warmth and excitement spread inside the young man's body at the last statement. After Branda's passing, he had known of no one else who knew his mother.

"And how was your relationship with my mother?"

Petyr smiled kindly "We were good friends. It was unfortunate when she passed away. She did not deserve to die so young."

Charles shifted uncomfortably. Noticing the lord continued consolingly:

"It was a unfortunate. But such things happens from time to time. Your family has that as well with the Imp."

Charles thought it wasn't such a flattering nickname for his uncle. But based on the rumors he could understand how it had been created."

"Tyrion yes. We share that grief together."

"I understand you never met her."

"Obviously not…" Charles muttered under his breath.

"Well, she was a beautiful woman. A lot of fire in her."

Charles smiled at the memory of when Branda spoke of her daughter's spirit. "So I have been told. She even led the Caroleans at the Battle of Ashford."

Petyr nodded. "Although you look more like your father on the other hand. Blonde Lannister hair, green eyes."

The young Svea grinned "Makes it easy to blend in with the rest of the family."

Choren appeared from the archway and called out "Oh there you are. I was looking for you."

"I took a small stroll on my own."

The two council members respectfully introduced themselves to Charles companion.

"I'm lord Baelish."

"And I am Varys."

Charles, in turn, gestured to the knight "This is Ser Choren Brax my dear friend and sworn sword to Tywin Lannister."

Choren politely inclined his head "A pleasure to meet you."

The spider moved closer to Choren "As I understand you were in charge of escorting Charles to the Red Keep. You were also the first one to meet him when he arrived."

"Well, that is correct. Did Charles tell you that?"

Varys winked at Charles "Kind of."

Charles raised his eyebrows, then he spoke to his friend "He is the master of Whispers after all, so he knows these things."

With small grunts and a rattling of Chains, an elderly man joined the crowd. Charles could only look in amusement as the fourth unannounced person confronted him in a place he had thought to venture alone.

"And here comes the old maester." Lord Petyr announced.

"Maester Pycelle is it?"

Although he was several steps away, Pycelle slowly raised his hand so to shake Charles'. Something which looked not too impressive since he was a very slow walker.

"Yes." The older man sighed.

"I'm Charles XII of house Svea." He declared as he finally shook the Maester's hand.

"Welcome...welcome."

"Thank you."

"It was a long time since…. your mother was here. But I still remember her… yes. and your father as well."

"Was he here often?" Charles asked as Pycelle released the weak grasp of his hand.

"No, not often but… Three Crowns is so close to the capital so he would come..."

Pycelle then slowly turned his body to the other direction. "May I have a word with you Baelish?"

Petyr nodded, and they slowly walked off as the Maester uttered. "We have some financial matters to discuss."

Choren then headed away as well, leaving only the initial two socializers. The young Svea and the spider made a striking contrast to the sight of a far away observer. Charles navy blue uniform easily seeable to Varys' blending lavish robe.

"Since you know so much Lord Varys, you might be able to tell me who occupies my home."

"The occupier, which technically would make it that person's home is Lord Brayton Norrey. A former merchant who was made a Lord after serving the realm."

"Former merchant…"

"Yes."

"Who participated in the Rebellion?"

Varys shook his head "No. He simply did a good job with the tax collecting helping the Master of Coin."

They both looked at the figures of Pycelle and Baelish disappearing into another corridor.

"And he was rewarded with Three Crowns." Varys finished.

"So Baelish knows this lord?"

"Oh yes."

There was a silence as Charles stood and contemplated this development. After a few seconds, 'the spider' spoke politely. "Well if you would excuse me." before bowing and leaving as well.

When Charles found his way back to the throne room, he met up with the group of Lannister soldiers which had followed him from The Rock. They asked if he needed any guard escort, and he bid two to come along with him. Mostly for the sake of image.

Charles continued to explore and found a massive dining hall with two long tables and a high table. He presumed he would meet up with the others later to dine here. He met a servant in the corridor and learned after some inquiring that a court session which would have taken place in four days had been canceled. The reason being the Hand's sudden illness. After some more tracking, he steered his way back to the Throne room. He merely stood in the mist of the great pillars studying the throne.

"There he is Dog!" A gleefully excited voice cried out.

A luxuriously clad teenager strutted towards him followed by a tall man with a burnt face in black plated armor.

The Lannister features became evident on the teen's slim frame as he approached and assuredly spoke "Charles. I am prince Joffrey."

"Ah, pleasure meeting you my prince." He viewed his cousin up and down. A handsome boy to be sure and he certainly radiated energy.

Joffrey continued "And with me, I have the Hound."

Charles looked at the ugly man who seemed un-flinched by being compared to an animal. The hound? Hm, he knew only of one house who had dogs as their sigil. 'Clegane perhaps, yes burnt face not supernaturally tall must be Sandor.'

"Sandor Clegane is it?"

The Hound made an annoyed growling sound. He then looked away uninterested.

"It's Charles Svea." He said with mock courtesy to the Westerland bannerman. Then he turned to the prince with his usual smile "Pleasant to meet you cousin."

Joffrey did not seem to care for the remark and spoke excitedly: "Do you have your Valyrian steel sword with you?"

Charles glanced at the saber which rested by his side. He then smiled proudly at his cousin and stated: "Always with me."

He unsheathed it and felt the perfect balance in his hand.

"May I try it?" Joffrey's tone was calm and collected. But he had already reached out with his hands ready to take it. There was a hunger in Joffrey's eyes that made Charles feel a bit reluctant to hand it over.

"Of course." Charles said and placed Vasa in his cousin's palms.

Joffrey handled the weapon eagerly, swinging it around.

"Perhaps we could go sparring sometime?" Charles asked carefully watching the teen who was almost mesmerized by his activity.

"Nice Sword you have." Joffrey declared and handed Vasa back nonchalantly. Either he had ignored or not heard his cousin's suggestion.

Charles decided to let it slide and sheathed Vasa. "Indeed, an elegant weapon."

"I've read about it." Joffrey stated seeming a bit bored; then his eyes lit up as he continued speaking "I also heard that my father killed yours in single combat."

Charles clenched his jaw in his closed mouth. Feeling anger build up inside.

"It is true… during Battle of the Trident when he led the Caroleans. I guess…."

Joffrey cut him off his voice filled with unpleasant glee "A foolish choice, of course, to fight against my father. But still, he suffered the fate of a traitor. As they all should."

Charles gripped the handle of Vasa tightly, but he spoke diplomatically in a low voice "As all the losers in war. They usually receive the end of the sword."

"Yes… And why are you here?"

"Because we are relatives. Cousin. I am a Lannister as much as I am a Svea. As you are Lannister as much as you are a Baratheon, my prince. So I thought it would be nice to have a reunion with the rest of my family. "

Joffrey looked bored. "Hmm how nice… Well, I will talk later with you."

He scurried off with the Hound following dead-eyed after. Charles continued down the hall and took the corridor to the right of the Iron Throne. He passed a small sept and then reached a large door guarded by four men. The soldier's armor was unlike the other guards in the Red Keep. They wore the sigil of a falcon and crescent moon. He greeted the Arryn soldiers and bid them send his regards to the Jon Arryn.

After discovering the tower of the Hand, Charles wondered what was to the left of the Iron Throne. So he found his way back to his focal point and ventured into the unexplored territory. After some walking, he exit the central keep and saw a smaller castle on the other side of a winding bridge.

"Ah, this must be Maegor's Holdfast." Charles exclaimed.

"Indeed. Only royalty allowed." The posted Baratheon guard stiffly remarked.

The non-royalty jokingly bowed his head and started walking back. But Charles knew that he would see the inside of that Keep. At least before becoming royalty himself.

"Wait." A voice cried out from behind. Charles swirled around and saw Jaime hurrying across the bridge to catch up.

"Isn't it time for dinner now." Jaime asked as he comfortably shook his head to move some hair from his face.

"I guess it is." Charles answered. Feeling quite happy with the day's discoveries and ready to settle.

Together they walked back to the Throne room.

"I have to say, Jaime, your skills are well known. Even in Braavos. Perhaps you would honor me by sparring sometime?"

"Sure sure."

They continued the remaining stroll in mostly silence. When they entered the dining hall Jaime Called out to a servant who prepared the table:

"Is the dinner ready?"

The servant bowed his head and went to serve the food as they took their seat on a table. Whistling Tyrion entered.

"Ah, hello there."

After the dwarf also had settled, Charles glanced at his uncles and asked. "So any updates on the situation? If I'm allowed to know of course."

Tyrion took a sip of his wine and spoke: "With the hand?"

Charles nodded curiously.

"Well, I've not heard anything have you, Jaime?"

"No, not a word." The knight answered bluntly in a carefree tone.

Tyrion swirled his wine pondering "Where is my dear sister anyway?"

His brother glanced at the entrance. "I don't know. Wasn't she supposed to be here?"

"Yes."

Then as on cue, a servant girl half-ran into the room. When she stood a few feet from their table, she hastily bowed.

"Sorry, my lords. The Queen sends her regards but excuses herself. She is not feeling well. So she sadly can't participate."

Charles gave the girl a sad smile. "Of course. Send my best regards."

"I think Cersei is a bit stressed regarding the Hand." Jaime explained as the servant left.

"Understandable. He is an essential person." Charles said and smelled the vintage in his goblet. It was of good quality from what he could tell.

"Indeed." Jaime drank his wine.

"Who would fill his shoes if he were to pass away?" The young Svea pondered out loud. The Lannister brothers looked to be contemplating but said nothing.

Charles observed his two uncles as they were in thought and felt a surge of energy for finally meeting them. "Well, I have to bring a toast for this happy reunion! I have been looking forward greatly to this day."

The brothers raised their glasses, and they all drank together. Tyrion took a noteworthy large gulp compared to his nephew.

"So I have to know uncles, how was my father?"

The dwarf stopped drinking for a moment, and there was a small silence. The Jaime spoke "Well none of us really knew him that well. We did not see him much. "

That saddened Charles "No public events?"

Jaime shrugged "Sometimes, but we did not grow up with him."

The young Svea knew it to be true, a member of the family split from the rest due to duties. "Such a sad story… and all because of the mad king."

Jaime hummed agreeing and looked away vacant. Then Tyrion burst out more joyfully. "From what I can recall he was a handsome young man. He was tall, but not the cleverest guy."

Charles smiled bitterly "Lann the stupid grandfather called him…" Then his smile turned softer recalling Garth's stories of his father "Although I heard that his nickname in the Reach was Lann the Strong."

Jaime nodded with a half smile himself "It is true. I've heard that Lann was a powerful fighter. I also saw him fight a few times and he was strong but slow. Something he would experience with Robert of course. That raw strength became the end of him. What happens when a strong man meets another purely strong man?"

"The strongest survive… hm, I guess Rhaegar wasn't quick enough then." Charles mused.

Jamie took a gulp of wine and answered solemnly "No… apparently not. His ruby armor scattered in the river."

Remembering another story he heard of a combat which had revolved the King's guard Charles remarked: "And you fought side by side with my deceased uncle Charles against the Kingswood Brotherhood."

"Ah, yes a long time ago. He perished to the smiling knight though. Your uncle had been Ser Arthur's squire, but I was the one who was knighted."

There lingered a small silence as Charles contemplated the mortal history of his house. "A lot of death surrounds my family…"

"Your family is known for dying young." Jaime jested

"Siring young as well." The Svea added reluctantly.

The knight chuckled "Have you married yet?"

"No. So I guess in that case I have failed to live up to the Svea name. But It would have done me no good to have married in Braavos."

From the servant's corridor, Varys gracefully crept out. He walked with fast steps to their table and spoke deliberately "I'm sorry for disturbing my lords. But I come with troubling news. Unfortunately, the hand of the king has died in his sleep."

Jaime quickly rose to his feet. The chair squealed as it was hastily pushed back across the stone surface. "I have to go." He stated and walked off before anyone could answer.

"Rather shocking," Tyrion stated as he put his empty wine goblet on the table.

"Sudden sickness? So you mean that it struck about two days ago?" Charles asked confused.

Varys smiled sadly "He was feeling all right then all of a sudden…."

Tyrion sighed and then refilled his cup "I guess those kinds of things happen when we are old."

The master of whispers inclined his head and then left the hall as quickly as he had appeared.

Charles looked to the only remaining person and pondered. "So sudden. Sounds suspicious."

"No, he was old. Old people have a tendency to die." His uncle answered nonchalantly.

"I guess so."

They both gulped their wine and sat there thinking. The young Svea smiled to himself. "It truly was a light in my youth when you sent that letter Tyrion. I have to thank you for that."

"What can I not do for my loving family." The dwarf sounded almost bitter and then took a long sip.

A sudden thundering sound made Tyrion almost choke on the wine. Bells had started to ring. Their clinging sound echoed down the hall ominously.

It rang with a relatively slow pace. But they rang continuously.

"That is the signal then." Charles said with a sigh.

He drank hard, and they both listened in silence at the sinister bells. After a long time contemplating the death of the hand, Charles turned to his uncle.

"So what is your role here Tyrion?"

"Well, I am sometimes being mistaken as the fool of the court." He laughed darkly. Then he waved his hands as to indicate he was jesting and started saying more lightly "No but…"

However, Charles cut him off stating defensively "Only a fool would mistake you for a fool."

Tyrion grinned and wiped his mouth before continuing on his previous sentence. "I have been here for some time. Not doing anything productive actually. Mostly drinking. Yeah, that is pretty much it."

They both took a sip, and Charles felt that the wine was starting to grow on him.

"So have you not been given a chance of an office? Ever? "

"My father made me in charge of the sewers at Casterly rock."

"The sewers?"

Tyrion raised his glass. "He thought it was my level. To make sure the shit flooded out of the Castle as well as it should." He took a heavy gulp and sighed happily afterward. Then he boasted loudly "And trust me the shit has never flown better."

"Did that make the old man proud?"

"No, not really…."

The young Svea observed his uncle empathetically. He uttered without thinking "I guess he blames you for the tragic death of your mother."

As soon as the words were out he regretted himself. It was an incredible insensitive question. Wasn't it?

There was intensity in the dwarf's eyes as he spoke. "Oh, he does…"

Charles exhaled sadly: "There is no one to blame me for it alive…"

"We both came into this world killing our mothers. A cheer for that!" Tyrion gloomily declared.

Charles joined in on the depressing jape and raised his cup "Cheer to that..."

They both washed their sorrows away with the comfort found in their glasses.

Charles hiccuped and stated darkly "We could create a guild you know."

"The mother slayers." Tyrion quickly added.

Charles laughed. He had never laughed so hard in his entire existence from what he could recall. The notion was too bizarre and to fitting for him to stop.

His uncle simply grinned across his face. Then he turned to the servants, and shouted: "More wine!"

A girl hurried to their table and switched their tankard with a full one. Charles' hand which held the goblet was still shaking as the dwarf refilled it. More than a little of the wine was spilled, but the young Svea finally composed himself. He asked wheezing and red-faced:

"Would you fashion yourself the best drinker in King's Landing?"

Tyrion smirked righteously. Reminding Charles of the queen. "Well, no one can beat me."

The dwarf glanced at his nephew slowly sipping, while he gulped on his goblet.

"Well you are young and up for it, drink faster!"

Charles grinned and though still recovering from his laugh he obliged. After the young man downed the goblet, Tyrion snatched it out of his hand and refilled it.

"Here you go." Tyrion said reassuringly. Sounding like a mother soothing her child.

Charles looked to at the glass filled to the rim with dread but finished it all the same. His stomach protested. "I will try to…" a gag finished his sentence.

"Another glass." Tyrion stated encouragingly and filled their goblets.

"I will Try to *gulp* keep up. Well I…".

Tyrion tutted heavily and looked at his nephew seriously. "The hand of the king has just died. Do you really think this is not the time to get drunk?"

"This is the time to mourn." Charles interjected as best he could. He thought he already was drunk.

"And what better way of mourning is there than drinking yourself..."

"Sorrows away!" Charles finished Tyrion's sentence loudly.

"Yeah exactly."

"Cheer to that!"

They both enthusiastically clinked their glasses.

"Although I guess " Charles took a sip "Lord Tywin would disapprove. But he is not the most festive person."

Tyrion waved his hand nonchalantly. "Exactly. More wine!"

The same servant girl hurried back with a new tankard.

Charles leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table because he felt like it. "The Mother Slayers… Who would be the leader in that order… I guess height would be a deciding factor."

"Ah, or looks."

Charles exclaimed in a completely different thought. "What is this wine? It's good! Arbor red? Arbor Green? Arbor Yellow?"

"I think it is actually arbor blue."

They boomed in laughter. Charles hit the table so hard that his cup flipped and spilled his wine across his Svea coat. He viewed his clothes disapprovingly.

"What good is blue... I want purple! The royal color."

Tyrion swirled the fallen cup skillfully "Aa yes….. We could have a wedding with only purple wine."

"But you are not married Tyrion why is that?"

"Because I am unworthy of a woman…" The dwarf exhaled in a sarcastic depressed tone before downing his drink. Tyrion then reached for the tankard instinctively and refiled their glasses.

"That's not how it works for the nobility." The young man remarked and scratched his head.

Noises of people moving outside of the hall caught their attention.

"Ah, it's probably only Varys running around." Laughing at his own joke Tyrion fell off his chair.

"More Wine!" He bellowed from the floor.

Charles stood up to see if his uncle were all right. He felt incredibly light headed and unbalanced, grabbing the table to support his weight. Tyrion then slowly crawled up the stool with his empty wine goblet preciously pressed against his chest.

The young Svea slumped back into his chair "I am… This is.. I have never felt so GOOD before. This… this…"

"You can feel like this every day with me." Tyrion announced and patted his nephew supportedly on the hand.

"Well, well." Charles felt it hard to find the words. "Why doesn't everyone feel like this ev..."

Tyrion cut him off. Seeming completely lost in his thoughts "I think we should have a competition. Who can run on this table.. quickest to the end."

"Hah! you're on you.. fool." Charles clumsy rose.

"You take the other one."

As Tyrion noisily climbed the table, he knocked a golden plate filled with sausages off the table. Then he slipped and fell backward into a standing chair, tipping it and him onto the floor. Charles stumbled towards the opposite table and hit his hip hard into the edge. He cursed loudly and mustered all his determination to keep his balance as climbed and stood on the wooden surface. Sweat poured down his brow as a result. Charles then started his sprint onwards.

The whole world tilted to the side as he reached halfway. He felt the wooden surface slam into his face and a wine goblet which he had forgotten he even held fly from his hand. He hastily pushed himself up, turned and ran. He reached the end with a thumping heart and saw a dizzy Tyrion leaning against the table end.

"I made it I made it! Damn you are fast." Charles exclaimed between breaths.

He decided to lay onto the table flat down and stared at the dancing stone floor. The stones were all unmatched and of different sizes glued together. The lines were sloppy indeed. None of them were symmetrical! Charles closed his eyes for a moment feeling slightly dizzy. Then as he laid in the darkness, it suddenly felt as if he had been fastened to a wheel and spun around infinitely. Charles thrust open his eyes and stared at the stable stone surface seeking peace. He gagged, and an uncomely feeling spread throughout his system, and he threw up. After he was done, he looked to the content of the icky remains of a tankard worth of wine filling up the cracks of the stone floor. To his right, Tyrion laid motionless on the edge of the other table.

"Thank you for tonight uncle." Charles managed to conjure before stumbling his entire way back to his room.

He then drunkenly ordered two cans to be brought before drowsing of on his bed, wet clothes and all.


End file.
